
Qass lH33. 

Book lJ 




U'DIHM 3U:M'TAWo 



THE LIFE 



OF 



JOHI BUIYAI, 



AUTHOR OF 



THE pilgrim's PROGRESS. 



BY STEPHEN KWICKENS. 
n 



Behold, this dreamer cometh.— Genesis xxxvii, 19. 
Revere the man whose Pilgrim marks the road, 
And points the Progress of the soul to God. — Cowper. 

He was a burning and a shining light. — John v, 35. 




NEW-YORK: 
PUBLISHED BY G. LANE & R R SANDFORD, 

FOB THE METHODIST EPISCOPAL CHURCH, AT THE CONFERENCE 
OFFICE, 200 MULBERRY-STREET. 

J. Collord, Printer. 




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^^"3 



M^f 



5 



Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1844, by 
G. Lane & P.P. Sandfokd, in the Clerk's Office of the District 
Court of the Southern District of New-York. 



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PREFACE 



The name of John Bunyan is one which 
• Hects lustre, not only on the religious de- 
mination of which he was a member, and 
whose altars he ministered, but also on the 
;e of the church in which he lived, adorned 
ough that age was with such luminaries as 
j.^ axter, Owen, Howe, Hall, and Taylor. His 
!': markable conversion and subsequent his- 
ry furnish a striking display of the trans- 
rming power of divine grace. In burning 
zeal and deep piety, in ardour of expression 
and fertility of imagination, he was equalled 
by few. As an author he has attained a pop- 
ularity almost unparalleled, and which in- 
creases rather than diminishes with the lapse 
of years. '^ His works praise him in the 
gates," and in the day of eternity thousands 
will " rise up and call him blessed." 

One of his most remarkable productions 
is his autobiographical narrative, ? entitled. 



• »/ -^ . 4 : .f 



PREFACE. 



"Grace Abounding to the Chief of Sinners j 
or a brief relation of the exceeding mercy of 
God to his poor servant, John Bunyan j 
namely, in his taking him out of the dung- 
hill, and converting him to the faith of his 
blessed Son Jesus Christ; where is also 
showed, what sight of and what trouble he 
had for sin, and also what various temptations 
he hath met with, and how God hath carried 
him through them all." It gives a full rela- 
tion of his religious experience from early 
childhood till he began to preach ; and has 
supplied the ground-work of all subsequent 
lives of its author. The editions published 
since his decease contain a brief Continua- 
tion, written by one who styles himself *'a true 
friend and long acquaintance of Mr.Bunyan," 
and which is commonly attributed to Charles 
Doe, a contemporary Baptist preacher. 

In the British Museum there is a copy of 
an old Memoir, (see p. 270,) by a personal 
friend of Bunyan's, who is supposed to have 
been a clergyman of the Enghsh Establish- 
ment. Some interesting extracts from this 
work affe given by Mr. Philip, whose re- 



PEEFACE. 5 

searches have added much to our stock of 
information respecting the author of the Pil- 
grim's Progress. Dr. Southey, in the Me- 
moir prefixed to his edition of the Pilgrim, 
has furnished some valuable illustrations of 
Bunyan's literary history, and "done ampler 
justice to his genius than most of his prede- 
cessors;" but his political and ecclesiastical 
prejudices rendered him incapable of appre- 
ciating his religious opinions and character. 
The other Memoirs of Bunyan are but brief 
sketches, except that by Mr. Ivimey, which 
was a republication of "Grace Abounding," 
with some Reflections, and an enlarged Con- 
tinuation. It has now been out of print for 
many years. 

The volume now presented to the reader 
comprises the substance not only of Bunyan's 
own narrative, already referred to, but also 
of all that is known with certainty respecting 
his life, labours, character, and writings. The 
additional information has been drawn from 
Bunyan's other works, from preceding biog- 
raphies, and from numerous other authentic 
sources. The whole has been rewritten, and 



PREFACE. 



SO condensed and arranged as to give, within 
the compass of a small volume, a more com- 
plete and connected account than is elsewhere 
to be found. S. B.W. 

New York, February, 1844. 



thon whom, borne on fancy's eager winy 
Back to the season of life's happy spring, 

1 pleased remember, and while memory yet 
Holds fast her office here, can ne'er forget,— 
Ingenious dreamer, in whose well-told tale 
Sweet fiction and sweet truth alike prevaU ; 
VThose hum'rous vein, strong sense, and simple style. 
May teach the gayest, make the gravest smile ; 
Witty, and well employed, and, like thy Lord, 
Speaking in parables his slighted word ; 

I name thee not, lest so despised a name 
Should move a sneer at thy deserved fame ; 
Yet, e'en in transitory life's late day. 
That mingles all my brown with sober gray, 
Revere the man, whose Pilgrim marks the road, 
And guides the Progress of the soul to God. 
'Twere well with most if books that could engage 
Their childhood pleased them at a riper age : 
The man, approving what had charm'd the boy, 
Would die at last in comfort, peace, and joy ; 
And not with curses on his art who stole 
The gem of truth from his unguarded soul. 

COWPBB. 



CONTENTS. 



Chapter I. Bunyan's birth and parentage : his childhood, 
and youthful depravity Page 9 

Chapter II. Bunyan in the army : his marriage and out- 
ward reformation 19 

Chapter III. Bunyan's religious experience : difficulties 
about faith, election, etc 33 

Chapter IV. Bunyan's religious experience : his extraor- 
dinary temptations and spiritual conflicts 75 

Chapter V. Bunyan's religious experience : deliverance 
from his temptations : remarks 93 

Chapter VI. Bunyan becomes a member of the Baptist 
Church at Bedford : he begins to preach 117 

Chapter VII. Bunyan's first publication : his controversy 
with the Quakers 141 

Chapter VIII. Abridgment of religious liberty : Bunyan's 
arrest, examinations, and imprisonment 149 

Chapter IX. Mrs. Bunyan applies to the judges for her 
husband's release, but without success 179 

Chapter X. Bunyan's religious experience, his trials and 
consolations, during his imprisonment 191 

Chapter XI. Bunyan's emplo3ntnents and studies during 
his imprisonment 201 



8 CONTENTS. 

Chapter XII. Bunyan is elected pastor of the church at 
Bedford : his release from prison 219 

Chapter XIII. Bunyan defends his practice of commun- 
ing with all true Christians 231 

Chapter XIV. Character and style of Bunyan's preach- 
ing, with specimens from his printed discourses . . 239 

Chapter XV. Publication of the Pilgrim's Progress, with 
remarks on and notices of that work 263 

Chapter XVI. Calumnious report : publication of the 
Holy War, Life of Badman, etc 283 

Chapter XVII. Last year of Bunyan's life : his dying 
sayings, and death 299 

Chapter XVIII. Bunyan's personal appearance : his fa- 
mily: traditions and relics : conclusion 311 




Elstow Church and Belfry. 



THE 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 



CHAPTER I. 

bunyan's birth and parentage: depravity 
of his youthful years. 

Bedford is a flourishing town, lying in a rich 
valley, on the banks of the Ouse, about fifty 
miles from London. It is a place of great anti- 
quity, and has been the theatre of important 
events. More than a thousand years have 
passed away since the first building was erected 
on its site. It has been the scene of Saxon 
and Danish warfare ; and its strong castle (de- 
molished centuries ago) witnessed many a 
bloody siege. Yet to multitudes, with whom 
its name is a familiar sound, Bedford is known 
only from its connection with an individual who, 
though of obscure parentage and humble occu- 
pation, there earned for himself " a name that 
will outlive the memory of kings" — the world- 
renowned author of the Pilgrim's Progress. 



10 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

But although we are accustomed to associate 
the town of Bedford with the name of Bunyan, 
he was not a native of that place, but of Elstow, 
a small village about a mile distant, where he 
was bom in the year 1628, in the humble dwell- 
ing which is represented in our iBngraving. 

Of Bunyan's early history, except his spirit- 
ual experience, of which he has left a faithful 
and ample record, little can now be ascertained. 
Had he dreamed, observes Dr. Southey, of 
being for ever known, and taking his place 
among those who may be called the immortals 
of the earth, he would probably have given us 
more details of his temporal circumstances and 
the events of his life ; but glorious dreamer though 
he was, this never entered into his imaginings. 

Of his parentage he says, " My descent was 
of a low and inconsiderable generation, my 
father's house being of that rank that is meanest 
and most despised of all the families in the land." 
His father was a tinker, and brought up his sons, 
of whom he had several, to the same business ; but 
he was not, as some have supposed, one of those 
itinerant repairers of dilapidated pots and kettles, 
called gipsies. He had a settled habitation, and 
though poor was honest, and bore a fair character. 

Bunyan records, with gratitude, that his pa- 
rents, " notwithstanding their meanness and in- 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 11 

considerableness," sent him to school, "to learn 
both to read and write, the which," he adds, " I also 
attained according to the rate of other poor men's 
children, though, to my shame I confess, I did 
soon lose that little I learnt, even almost utterly." 

At what school he was placed we are not 
told. Mr. Philip suggests that it may have been 
the grammar school founded at Bedford in 1556, 
by Sir W. Harpur, (mayor of London,) for teach- 
ing " grammar and good manners," and which 
was then open to the children of the poor. 

" But if Bunyan was educated at the Harpur 
school, he certainly did not learn ' good man' 
nets^ whatever ' grammar' he acquired there." 
Associating with vile companions, he was early 
initiated into profaneness, and soon became a 
sort of ringleader in all kinds of boyish vice and 
imgodliness ; so that, as he tells us, " from a 
child he had but few equals, considering his 
years, for cursing, swearing, lying, and blas- 
pheming the holy name of God ; yea," he adds, 
" so settled and rooted was I in these things, 
that they became as a second nature to me." 

Whether his parents took any pains to check 
his vicious propensities, we cannot tell ; but 
that by some persons, if not by them, he was 
faithfully warned of the consequences of his bad 
conduct, is evident from his early compunctions 



12 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

of conscience, and the terrific visions which 
haunted his nightly slumbers. " Even in my 
childhood," he says, " the Lord did scare and af- 
frighten me with fearful dreams, and did terrify 
me with fearful visions. For often, after I have 
spent this and the other day in sin, I have in 
my bed been greatly afflicted, while asleep, 
with the apprehensions of devils and wicked 
spirits, who still, as 1 then thought, laboured to 
draw me away with them, of which I could never 
be rid. Also I should at these years be greatly 
afflicted and troubled with the thoughts of the 
fearful torments of hell-fire, still fearing that it 
would be my lot to be found at last among those 
devils and hellish fiends who are there bound 
down with the chains and bonds of darkness, 
unto the judgment of the great day. 

" These things, I say, when I was but a 
child, but nine or ten years old, did so distress 
my soul, that then, in. the midst of my many 
sports and childish vanities, amidst my vain 
companions, I was often much cast down, and 
afflicted in my mind therewith, yet I could not 
let go my sins : yea, I was also then so over- 
come with despair of life and heaven, that I 
should often wish, either that there had been no 
hell, or that I had been a devil ; supposing that 
they were only tormentors ; that if it must needs 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 13 

be that I went thither, I might rather be a tor- 
mentor than be tormented myself." 

Some of the terrible dreams by which Bunyan's 
conscience was aroused and alarmed are related 
in the old Memoir. " Once he dreamed he saw 
the face of the heavens, as it were, all on fire, 
the firmament crackling and shivering as with 
the noise of mighty thunders, and an archangel 
flew in the midst of heaven sounding a trumpet, 
and a glorious throne was seated in the east, 
whereon sat one in brightness like the morning 
star ; upon which he, thinking it was the end 
of the world, fell upon his knees, and, with up- 
lifted hands toward heaven, cried, ' O Lord God, 
have mercy upon me ! what shall I do ! the day 
of judgment is come, and I am not prepared !' 
when immediately he heard a voice behind him, 
exceeding loud, saying, ' Repent ;' and upon 
this he awoke, and found it but a dream. Yet, 
as he said, upon this he grew more serious, and 
it remained in his mind a considerable time. 

" At another time he dreamed that he was in 
a pleasant place, jovial and rioting, banqueting 
and feasting his senses, when immediately a 
mighty earthquake rent the earth, and made a 
wide gap, out of which came bloody flames, and 
the figures of men tossed up in globes of fire, 
and falling down again with horrible cries, 



14 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

shrieks, and execrations, while some devils that 
were with them laughed aloud at their torment ; 
and while he stood trembling at this sight, he 
thought the earth sunk under him, and a circle 
of flame enclosed him ; but when he fancied he 
was just at the point to perish, one in white 
shining raiment descended and plucked him out 
of that dreadful place, while devils cried after 
him to leave him with them, to take the just 
punishment his sins had deserved ; yet he es- 
caped the danger, and leaped for joy when he 
awoke and found it but a dream. Many others, 
somewhat to the same purpose, I might men- 
tion, as he at sundry times related them ; but, 
not to be tedious, these for a taste may sufiice."* 

Such visions could not fail to make a strong 
impression on a mind so excitable as Bunyan's, 
and it is not unlikely that they suggested to him, 
in after years, the idea of representing the story 
of his pilgrim "under the similitude of a dream." 

The immediate moral effect produced by these 
dreams was, however, both small and transient ; 
and when, after awhile, they left him, and his 
apprehensions of future punishment wore off, he 

* It is highly probable that the dream which Bunyan 
put into the mouth of the man in the chamber at the 
** Interpreter's house," is, with perhaps some variations, 
a relation of one of his own youthful visions. 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 15 

let loose to the reins of his vicious habits, and 
followed after sin with more greediness than 
ever. He says of himself, " In these days the 
thoughts of religion were very grievous to me ; 
I could neither endure it myself, nor that any 
other should ; so that when I have seen some 
read in those books that concerned Christian 
piety, it would be as it were a prison to me. 
Then I said unto God, ' Depart from me, for I 
desire not the knowledge of thy ways.' I was 
now void of all good consideration ; heaven and 
hell were both out of sight and mind ; and as 
for saving and damning, they were least in my 
thoughts. Yea, such prevalency had the lusts 
of the flesh on this poor soul of mine, that had 
not a miracle of grace prevented, I had not only 
perished by the stroke of eternal justice, but 
had also laid myself open, even to the stroke of 
those laws which bring some to disgrace and 
open shame before the world. 

" But this I well remember, that though I 
could myself sin with the greatest delight and 
ease, and also take pleasure in the vileness of 
my companions, yet, even then, if I had at any 
time seen wicked things by those who profess- 
ed godliness, it would make my spirit tremble. 
As once above all the rest, when I was in the 
height of my vanity, yet hearing one swear, that 



16 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

was reckoned a religious man, it had so great a 
stroke upon my spirit that it made my heart ache. 

" But God did not utterly leave me, but fol- 
lowed me still, not with convictions, but with 
judgments ; yet such as were mixed with 
mercy. For once I fell into a creek of the sea, 
and hardly escaped drowning. Another time I 
fell out of a boat into Bedford River, but mercy 
yet preserved me alive. Besides, another time, 
being in the field with one of my companions, 
it chanced that an adder passed over the high- 
way ; so I, having a stick in my hand, struck 
her over the back ; and, having stunned her, I 
forced open her mouth with my stick, and pluck- 
ed her sting out with my fingers ; by which act, 
had not God been merciful unto me, I might, by 
my desperateness, have brought myself to my end. 

" Here, as I said, were judgments and mercy, 
but neither of them did awaken my soul to 
righteousness ; wherefore I sinned still, and 
grew more and more rebellious against God, 
and careless of my own salvation." 

Some of Bunyan's biographers are exceed- 
ingly anxious to convey the impression that he 
was not, in the days of his folly, so bad as he 
represents himself to have been. This is espe- 
cially the case with Dr. Southey, who says, 
" The wickedness of the tinker has been greatly 



ff 

LIFE OF JOHN BTJNYAN. '17 

overcharged ; and it is taking the language of 
self-accusation too literally, to pronounce of John 
Bunyan that he was at any time depraved. — 
His self-accusations are to be received with 
some distrust, not of his sincerity, but of his 
sober judgment. The worst of what he was in 
his worst days is to be expressed in a single 
word, for which we have no synonyme, and the 
full meaning of which no circumlocution can 
convey, — in a word, he had been a blackguard: — 

' The very head and front of his offending 
Hath this extent, no more.' 

Such he might have been expected to be by his 
birth, breeding, and vocation ; scarcely indeed 
by possibility could he have been otherwise ; 
but he was never a vicious man. — The practice 
of profane swearing was the worst, if not the 
only sin to which he was ever addicted." 

We are surprised that this passage should 
have been written in the face of Bunyan's ex- 
press declaration that he " had but few equals," 
not only for " cursing and swearing," but also for 
lying; and the well-known fact that he was an open 
and notorious sabbath breaker; for unsound as are 
the laureate's opinions on some of the cardinal 
doctrines of Christianity, it cannot be that his 
code of morals is so loose as not to include lying 
and sabbath breaking in its catalogue of vices. 

2 



% 

18 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAK. 

We can discover in what Bunyan relates of 
himself, before his conversion, no appearance 
of a desire to exaggerate his wickedness ; his 
language is evidently that of a man who was 
conscious he was writing the words of truth and 
soberness. It is true, he was never a drunk- 
ard, nor was he, in the gross sense of the word, 
licentious ; neither does he charge himself with 
these sins : on the contrary, he zealously and 
characteristically defends himself from the im- 
putation of the latter. That he did, however, 
in the vices to which he was addicted, acquire 
a bad pre-eminence among his fellow-sinners, 
is not only certain from his own declarations, 
but was also to have been expected from his 
bold and ardent temperament, and the natural 
energy of his character, which were such that 
he was not likely to content himself with medi- 
ocrity in anything, good or bad, that he engaged 
in. We give full credence, therefore, to Bun- 
yan's account of his youthful depravity ; and 
instead of endeavouring to palliate his miscon- 
duct, we would rather adore the riches of His 
grace, who, from such a depth of mental and 
moral degradation, raised him up to become one 
of the brightest luminaries of the Christian 
church. 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 19 



CHAPTER II. 

BUNYAN IN THE ARMY : HIS MARRIAGE, AND 
OUTWARD REFORMATION. 

It was Bunyan's lot to fall upon troublous 
limes. The civil war between Charles I. and 
the parliament broke out about the period of his 
life at which we have now arrived, — just as he 
was growing up to manhood. A youth of his 
bold and reckless character could not be ex- 
pected to remain an idle spectator of this excit- 
ing struggle ; and accordingly we find that he 
enlisted as a soldier, and joined the parliament- 
ary forces, when he was only seventeen years 
of age. 

While he was in the army he experienced a 
merciful interposition of Providence, which he 
relates in the following words : — " This also I 
have taken notice of with thanksgiving : when 
I was a soldier, I, with others, were drawn out 
to go to such a place to besiege it ; but when I 
was just ready to go, one of the company de- 
sired to go in my room ; to which, when I had 
consented, he took my place ; and coming to 
the siege, as he stood sentinel, he was shot in 
the head with a musket bullet, and died." 



20 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN". 

Bunyan does not specify where this took 
place, but the information is supplied by the 
author of the old Memoir already referred to, 
who says, " He often acknowledged, with up- 
lifted hands and eyes, a wonderful providence : 
for in June, 1645, being at the siege of Leices- 
ter, he was called out to be one [of a party] 
who should make a violent attack on the town, 
[which was then] vigorously defended by the 
king's forces against the parliamentarians. He 
appearing to the officer to be somewhat awk- 
ward in handling his arms, another man volun- 
tarily thrust himself into his place." 

At this time Bunyan was only seventeen, and 
his youth, as well as the fact of his being but 
a raw recruit, sufficiently accounts for the awk- 
wardness which appears to have been the indi- 
rect means of saving his life. 

His period of military service was short ; 
probably less than two years. Soon after quit- 
ting the army, and while he was yet very 
young, it is supposed before he was nineteen, 
he entered into the marriage state ; and his 
" mercy was," he tells us, " to light upon a 
wife whose father was counted godly." This 
step, as we learn from his earliest biographer, 
was advised by his friends, who " thought that 
changing his condition to the married state 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 21 

might reform him, and therefore urged him to 
it as a seasonable and comfortable advantage. 
But the difficult thing was, that his poverty, and 
irregular course of life, made it very difficult for 
him to get a wife suitable to his inclination : 
and because none of the rich would yield to his 
solicitations, he found himself constrained to 
marry one without any fortune." As it respects 
" fortune," she seems to have been about on a 
par with her husband, who says, " We came 
together as poor as poor might be, not having 
so much household stuff as a dish or a spoon 
between us." But it will be asked. How came 
a virtuous woman, who had been religiously 
educated, to marry such a man as Bunyan ; and 
what prospect could she have had of either 
happiness or comfort with him 1 In reply to 
this question it should be remarked, that Bun- 
yan, in his worst state, does not appear to have 
been either an idle, a malicious, or an intempe- 
rate man ; nor was he as conscience-hardened 
as many less notorious sinners. Besides, as it 
was a hope of his reformation that encouraged 
his friends to bring about the match, so it is not 
unlikely that she was, in some degTee, influ- 
enced by the same motive in uniting her lot 
with his. Certain it is, that his career of vice 
received a considerable check in consequence 



22 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

of his marriage, which may very justly be re- 
garded as the first step toward his conversion. 
It should be remarked, too, that at this time 
Mrs. Bunyan, though strictly moral, does not 
appear to have known much of experimental 
piety. 

The sole portion, besides herself, which Ban- 
yan's wife brought to her husband was two 
books, " The Plain Man's Pathway to Heaven," 
and " The Practice of Piety,"* which she 
inherited from her father, — and which " she 
frequently enticed her husband to read, and apply 
the use of them to the reforming his manners, 
and saving his soul." — (Old Memoir.) Bunyan 
himself says, " In these two books I shouldf 

* These two works appear to have been the most 
popular religious books of the day. Richard Baxter, who 
was contemporary with Bunyan, mentions as one of the 
characteristics of those pious persons who in that day 
were stigmatized as Puritans, that " they read the Scrip- 
tures, and such books as ' The Practice of Piety,' Dent's 
'Plain Man's Pathway,' and 'Dod on the Command, 
ments,' &c." Of " The Practice of Piety," which was 
written by Bayley, bishop of Bangor, fifty editions, as we 
are informed by Southey, were published in the course 
of a hundred years; and it was also translated into 
Welsh, (the author's native language,) into Hungarian, 
and into Polish. 

t Bunyan uses the word " should" in the sense of 
would, — a practice which was once common in some 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 23 

sometimes read with* her, wherein I also 
found some things that were somewhat pleasing 
to me ; but all this while I met with no con- 
viction. She also would be often telling me of 
what a godly man her father was ; and how he 
would reprove and correct vice, both in his 
house and among his neighbours ; and what a 
strict and holy life he led in his days, both in 
word and deed." 

The reading of these books, the admonitions 
of his wife, and her frequent references to the 
piety of her father, had a winning influence 
upon Bunyan, who says, " Though they did not 
reach my heart, to awaken it about my sad and 
sinful state, yet they did beget within me some 
desires to reform my vicious life, and fall in very 
eagerly with the religion of the times ; to wit, 
to go to church twice a day, and that too with 

parts of England. The reader will bear this in mind in 
reading our quotations from Bunyan. i 

* Without her he would probably have been unable 
to read them. The old Memoir says, »♦ To the voice of 
his wife he hearkened, and by that means recovered his 
reading, which, not minding before, he had almost lost." 
This agrees with Bunyan's own statement, when speak- 
ing of his being sent by his parents to school, — " I did 
soon lose that little I learnt, even almost utterly, and that 
long before the Lord did work his gracious work of con- 
version upon my soul." 



34 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

the foremost ; and there very devoutly say and 
sing, as others did, yet retaining my wicked 
life ; but withal I was so overrun with the spi- 
rit of superstition, that I adored, and that with 
great devotion, even all things — both the high 
place, [pulpit,] priest, clerk, vestment, service, 
and what else — belonging to the church ; count- 
ing all things holy that were therein contained, 
and especially the priest and clerk most happy, 
and without doubt greatly blessed, because they 
were the servants, as I then thought, of God, 
and were principal in his holy temple to do his 
work therein. 

" This conceit grew so strong in a little time 
upon my spirit, that had I but seen a priest, 
(though never so sordid and debauched in his 
life,) I should find my spirit fall under him, 
reverence him, and knit unto him ; yea, J. 
thought, for the love I did bear unto them, 
(supposing they were the ministers of God,) I 
could have laid down at their feet, and have 
been trampled on by them ; their name, their 
garb, and work did so intoxicate and bewitch 
me.* 

* ^his is precisely the feeling of abject reverence with 
which the priest of the Romish Church is regarded by 
me cpiniabn people in Popish countries ; and if at thia 
i>ehoci of his iife, when his imagination was so much 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 25 

i* But all this while I was not sensible of the 
danger and evil of sin ; I was kept from consi- 
dering that sin would damn me, what religion 
soever I followed, unless I was found in Christ ; 
nay, I never thought of him, nor whether there 
was such an one or no. Thus man while blind 
doth wander, but wearieth himself with vanity, 
for he knoweth not the way to the city of God." 

Bunyan's utter ignorance, at this period, of 
the nature of true religion would seem to indi- 
cate, either that his minister was not very evan- 
gelical in his discourses, or else that he himself 
was not a very attentive hearer. The latter is 
the more probable supposition, for the Presby- 
terians were then the dominant sect, and filled 
nearly all the parish churches ; and they were 
not accustomed to inculcate a superstitious reve- 
rence for outward things and mere ceremonies, 
or likely to leave an attentive hearer in entire 
ignorance of the way of salvation. Doubtless 
there were among them, as is generally the 

stronger than his judgment, and his mind had not emerged 
from the grossest ignorance, Bunyan had been thrown 
in the way of an artful emissary of that church, it is pro- 
bable that he would have been inextricably entangled in 
the toils of superstition. His moral and intellectual pro- 
gress would have terminated at the Giant's Cave. — 
Cpj^d^f^ Life, p. XX. 



26 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

case in churches established by law, some hy- 
pocritical pretenders, who, having entered " the 
priest's office for a morsel of bread," were ready 
to accommodate their doctrines to the tastes 
and wishes of their hearers ; but the minister 
of Elstow could scarcely have been one of this 
class, for we find him zealously inveighing 
against sabbath breaking — perhaps the most 
popular and crying sin of the day. 

Now Bunyan was passionately fond of the 
various sports and games with which the Eng- 
lish peasantry were then in the habit of dese- 
crating the holy sabbath ; and when his minis- 
ter set forth the sinfulness of breaking that sa- 
cred day, either by labour, sports, or otherwise, 
his conscience was smitten ; for the first time 
in his life he " felt what guilt was," and he 
" went home," he tells us, " when the sermon 
was ended, with a great burden on his spirit." 

But this feeling did not last long. " Before 
I had dined," he says, " the trouble began to go 
off my mind, and my heart returned to its old 
course. — Wherefore, when I had satisfied na- 
ture with my food, I shook the sermon out of 
my mind, and to my old custom of sports and 
gaming I returned with great delight. 

" But the same day, as I was in the midst of 
a game of cat, and having struck it one blow 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 27 

from the hole, just as I was about to strike it 
the second time, a voice did suddenly dart from 
heaven into my soul, which said, ' Wilt thou 
leave thy sins and go to heaven, or have thy 
sins and go to hell ?' At this I was put to an 
exceeding amaze ; wherefore, leaving my cat 
upon the ground, I looked up to heaven, and was 
as if I had, with the eyes of my understanding, 
seen the Lord Jesus looking down upon me, as 
being very hotly displeased with me, and as if he 
did severely threaten me with some grievous pun- 
ishment for these and other ungodly practices." 
At this moment a suggestion of the evil one 
suddenly fastened upon his mind, and he was 
tempted to conclude that it was too late for him 
to seek after heaven ; that he had been so great 
and grievous a sinner that Christ would not for- 
give his transgressions. " Then," he says, " I 
fell to musing on this also ; and while I was 
thinking of it, and fearing lest it should be so, 
I felt my heart sink in despair, concluding it 
was too late ; and therefore I resolved in my 
mind to go on in sin : for, thought I, if the case 
be thus, my state is surely miserable — misera- 
ble if I leave my sins, and but miserable if I 
follow them ; I can but be damned, and if I 
must be so, I had as good be damned for many 
sins as for few. 



28 LIFR OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

" Thus I stood in the midst of my play, before 
all that then were present ; but yet I told them 
nothing; but, I say, having made this conclusion, 
I returned desperately to my sport again, and I 
well remember, that presently this kind of de- 
spair did so possess my soul, that I was persuaded 
I could never attain to other comfort than what I 
should get in sin ; for heaven was gone already, 
so that on that I must not think. Wherefore I 
found within me great desire to have my fill of 
sin ; and I made as much haste as I could to 
fill myself with its delicacies, lest I should die 
before I had my desires ; for that I feared 
greatly. In these things, I protest before God 
I lie not, neither do I frame this sort of speech ; 
these were really, strongly, and with all my 
heart, my desires. The good Lord, whose 
mercy is unsearchable, forgive my transgres- 
sions !" 

In this state of mind he continued for about 
a month, when the incident occurred which is 
commonly supposed to have been the main 
cause of his conversion, though, as Mr. St. 
John remarks, it was in reality only one link 
in the chain of circumstances leading to that 
event. " One day," says Bunyan, " as I was 
standing at a neighbour's shop window, and there 
cursing and swearing, and playing the madman, 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 29 

after my wonted manner, there sat within the 
woman of the house, and heard me ; who, 
though she was a very loose and ungodly 
wretch, yet protested that I swore and cursed 
at the most ungodly rate ; that she was made 
to tremble to hear me ; and told me further, that 
I was the ungodliest fellow for swearing that 
she ever heard in all her life ; and that I by 
thus doing was able to spoil all the youth in 
the whole town, if they came but in my com- 
pany." She also admonished the young men 
who were with him to shun his conversation, or 
he would make them as bad as himself.* 

This severe rebuke, coming from such an 
unexpected quarter, was not lost upon Bunyan, 
who says, " At this reproof I was silenced, and 
put to secret shame ; and that too, as I thought, 
before the God of heaven ; wherefore, while I 
stood there, and hanging down my head, I 

* Somewhat similar to this was the remarkable cir- 
cumstance in the life of Mr. Perkins, an able minister 
of the gospel, who, while a student at Cambridge, was a 
great drunkard. As he was walking in the skirts of the 
town, he heard a woman say to a child that was fro ward 
and peevish, " Hold your tongue, or I will give you to 
drunken Perkins yonder." Finding himself become a 
by-word among the people, his conscience was deeply 
impressed, and this was the first step toward his conver. 
sion. — Jvimey. 



30 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN- 

wished with all my heart that I might be a lit- 
tle child again, that my father might teach me 
to speak without this wicked way of swearing; 
for, thought I, I am so accustomed to it, that it 
is in vain for me to think of a reformation, for I 
thought that could never be. 

" But how it came to pass I know not ; I did 
from this time forward so leave my swearing, 
that it was a great wonder to myself to observe 
it ; and whereas, before, I knew not how to 
speak unless I put an oath before, and another 
behind, to make my words have authority ; now 
I could, without it, speak better and with more 
pleasantness than ever I could before. All this 
while I knew not Jes.us Christ, neither did I 
leave my sports and plays." 

The next step in his reformation was his 
taking delight in reading the word of God, to 
which he was led by the conversation of a poor 
man who made a profession of religion ; and 
" who," says Bunyan, " as I then thought, did 
talk pleasantly of the Scriptures, and of the mat- 
ter of religion ; wherefore, falling into some 
love and liking to what he said, I betook me to 
my Bible, and began to take great pleasure in 
reading." His favourite portions of Scripture 
at this time were the historical books : for St. 
Paul's Epistles he had no relish whatever : he 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 31 

" could not away with them," he says, for he 
was as yet ignorant of the corruption of his 
nature, and his need of a Saviour. 

His reading, however, was not unproductive 
of good, for it occasioned some further reforma- 
tion both of his language and conduct. He now 
set the commandments before him as the rule 
of his life and the way to heaven. These com- 
mandments he strove to keep, and, as he thought, 
" did keep them pretty well sometimes," and 
then he felt encouraged and comforted. " Yet 
now and then," he says, " I should break one, 
and so afflict my conscience. But then I should 
repent, and say I was sorry for it, and promise 
God to do better ; and there got help again ; for 
then I thought I pleased God as well as any 
man in England." 

In this way he continued about a year, during 
which time he was considered to be a very 
godly and religious man by his neighbours, 
who, says Bunyan " were amazed at this my 
great conversion from prodigious profaneness to 
something like a moral life ; for this my con- 
version was as great as for Tom of Bedlam to 
become a sober man. Now therefore they be- 
gan to praise, to commend, and to speak well 
of me, both to my face and behind my back. 
Now I was, as they said, become godly ; now 



32 LIFE OP JOHN BTJNYAN. 

I was become a right honest man. But O! 
when I understood those were their words and 
opinions of me, it pleased me mighty well. 
For though as yet I was nothing but a poor 
painted hypocrite, yet I loved to be talked of as 
one that was truly godly. I was proud of my 
godliness, and indeed I did all I did either to 
be seen of, or to be spoken well of by men." 

We can readily conceive Bunyan's gratifica- 
tion at hearing the commendations of his neigh- 
bours on his change of conduct. It was quite 
natural that he should be, as he expresses it, 
" mighty well" pleased ; for to be thought and 
spoken well of was a neio as well as pleasant 
thing to one who had hitherto been almost a 
by-word for profanity and wickedness. 

Mr. Philip, at this point, very happily reminds 
his readers of one who must have been no small 
partaker of this joy : he carries them, in imagi- 
nation, to the tinker's fireside, and pictures the 
rapture which his wife must have felt in wit- 
nessing the progress of that reformation which 
she, in the providence of God, appears to have 
been the chief instrument in producing. 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 33 



CHAPTER III. 

BUNYAN'S RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE : DIFFICUL- 
TIES ABOUT FAITH, ELECTION, ETC. 

BuNYAN had formerly taken great delight in 
ringing ; but now that his " conscience began 
to be tender," he thought it a vain practice, and 
forced himself to leave it : " yet," he says, " my 
mind hankered ; wherefore I would now go to 
the steeple-house* and look on, though I durst 
not ring ; but I thought this did not become re- 
ligion neither ; yet I forced myself, and would 
look on still ; but quickly after I began to think, 
How if one of the bells should fall ? Then I 
chose to stand under a main beam, that lay 
athwart the steeple, from side to side, thinking 
here I might stand sure ; but then I thought 
again, should the bell fall with a swing, it might 
first hit the wall, and then, rebounding upon me, 
might kill me, for all this beam. This made me 
stand in the steeple door ; and now, thought I, 
I am safe enough ; for if the bell should th«n 
fall, I can slip out between these thick walls, 

* The « steeple-house," or belfry of Elstow church, 
contrary to the general practice, stood apart from the 
main building. See the note on page 331, 

3 



34 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

and so be preserved notwithstanding. So after 
this I would yet go to see them ring, but would 
not go further than the steeple door ; but then 
it came into my head, How if the steeple itself 
should fall ? And this thought did continually so 
shake my mind, that I durst not stand at the 
steeple door any longer, but was forced to flee, 
for fear the steeple should fall upon my head."* 

* Most of the parish churches in England have what 
is called a " peal of bells" in the steeple, which are rung 
at stated times, and on occasions of public rejoicing. 
With their gladsome music the sabbath is commonly 
ushered in — a custom which is alluded to in the well- 
known poem by the pious and excellent vicar of Harrow, 
commencing, — 

" I love the sabbath mom to come, 

When village bells awake the day ; 
And by their sacred minstrelsy 
Call me from earthly cares away." 

But what harm, it may be asked, is there in all this, that 
Bunyan should feel any scruples of conscience in regard 
to it ? If the ringers were a company of truly pious indi- 
viduals, whose hearts ascended in grateful praises to their 
Maker, in harmony with the joyous sounds with which 
they hailed the sacred day of rest, there might be no 
more objection to the bells in the steeple than to the 
organ in the church. But this, we presume, is rarely the 
case. The ringers are seldom the most sober or godly 
persons in the parish. Bunyan instinctively felt that 
neither the company nor the conversation in the belfiy 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 35 

Another of the amusements which Bunyan 
found it hard to relinquish was his dancing. 
♦' I was full a year," he says, " before I could 
quite leave that; but all this while, when I 
thought I kept this or that commandment, or did 
anything that I thought was good, I had great 
peace in my conscience ; and should think with 
myself, God cannot but be now pleased with 
me ; yea, to relate it in mine own way, I thought 
no man in England could please God better 
than I. But, poor wretch as I was, I was all 
this while ignorant of Jesus Christ, and going 
about to establish my own righteousness, and 
had perished therein, had not God in mercy 
showed me more of my state by nature." 

From this self-righteous delusion he was 
awakened by hearing a few pious females con- 
versing on the subject of religion. We give 
the narration in his own words : — " Upon a day 
the good providence of God called me to Bed- 
ford to work at my calling ; and in one of the 
streets of that town I came where there were 
three or four poor women sitting at a door, in 

at Elstow would be likely to edify a soul labouring under 
conviction of sin. He knew too well the character of the 
men. What they were we may judge from the fact that 
ne, in his worst days, was one of them ; and most likely 
a fair sample of the rest. 



36 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

the sun, talking about the things of God ; and 
being now willing to hear their discourse, I 
drew near to hear what they said, (for I was 
now a brisk talker of myself in the matter of 
religion,) but I may say I heard but understood 
not, for they were far above — out of my reach. 
Their talk was about a new birth, the work of 
God in their hearts, as also how they were con- 
vinced of their miserable state by nature. They 
talked how God had visited their souls with his 
love in the Lord Jesus, and with what words 
and promises they had been refreshed, com- 
forted, and supported against the temptations of 
the devil. Moreover, they reasoned of the sug- 
gestions and temptations of Satan in particular ; 
and told to each other by what means they had 
been afflicted, and how they were borne up 
under his assaults. They also discoursed of 
their own wretchedness of heart, and of their 
unbelief; and did contemn, slight, and abhor 
their own righteousness as filthy, and insuffi- 
cient to do them any good. 

" And methought they spake as if joy did 
make them speak ; they spake with such plea- 
santness of Scripture language, and with such 
appearance of grace in all they said, that they 
were to me as if they had found a new world ; 
as if they were people that dwelt alone, and 



LIFE OF JOHN BUN Y AN. 37 

were not to be reckoned among their neigh- 
bours. 

" At this I felt my own heart began to shake, 
and mistrust my condition to be naught ; for I 
saw that in all my thoughts about religion and 
salvation the new birth did never enter into my 
mind ; neither knew I the comfort of the word 
and promise, nor the deceitfulness and treachery 
of my own wicked heart. As for secret thoughts, 
I took no notice of them ; neither did I under- 
stand what Satan's temptations were, nor how 
they were to be withstood and resisted." 

When he left this little company, to go about 
his employment, their talk and discourse went 
with him, while his heart tarried behind ; " for," 
he says, " I was greatly affected with their 
words, both because by them I was convinced 
that I wanted the true tokens of a truly godly 
man, and also because by them I was convinced 
of the happy and blessed condition of him that 
was such an one." 

Bunyan began from this time to seek the 
company of these pious women. He could not, 
he tells us, stay away ; and the more he went 
among them the more he questioned his own 
state, and the more his heart was softened 
"under the conviction of what by Scripture 
they asserted." His mind was now so intent 



38 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

on spiritual and eternal things, that "neither 
pleasures, nor profits, nor persuasions, nor 
threats could make it let go its hold ; — it would 
then," he says, ^' have been as difficult for me 
to have taken my mind from heaven to earth, 
as I have found it often since to get it again 
from earth to heaven." 

But with all this tenderness of heart and 
conscience, and absorbing interest in spiritual 
things, Bunyan was still, as respects Christian 
doctrine, a mere babe in knowledge ; nor were 
his present companions, pious and godly though 
they were, and profitable as their conversation 
had been to him, qualified to become his spirit- 
ual instructers ; he was consequently in great 
danger of being led out of the way by some one 
of the numerous sects of fanatics which sprung 
up in England in this period of civil and reli- 
gious commotion. One of the worst of these 
sects was the Ranters — " a set," says Mr. Scott, 
" of the vilest Antinomians that almost ever ex- 
isted."* Some of their publications, " which 

* " They made it their business," says Baxter, " to set 
up the light of nature, in men, under the name of Christ, 
and to dishonour and cry down the church, the Scrip, 
ture, the present ministry, and our worship and ordi- 
nances. They called men to hearken to Christ within 
them ; but withal, they enjoined a cursed doctrine of 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 39 

were highly in esteem by several old profes- 
sors," fell about this time into Bunyan's hands, 
and their specious sophistries appear to have 
caused him no little perplexity ; he could not, 
he says, *' make a judgment about them." He 
probably felt himself unable to answer their 
arguments, and was unwilling to embrace their 
sentiments. Distrusting his own wisdom, he 
wisely sought that " which is from above," and 
betook himself to hearty prayer in this manner : 
" O Lord, I am a fool, and not able to know the 
truth from error : Lord, leave me not to my own 
blindness, either to approve of or condemn this 
doctrine ; if it be of God, let me not despise it ; 
if it be of the devil, let me not embrace it. 
Lord, I lay my soul in this matter only at thy 

libertinism, which brought them all to abominable filthi- 
ness of life. They taught that God regardeth not the 
actions of the outward man, but of the heart ; and that 
to the pure all things are pure, even things forbidden ; 
and so, as allowed by God, they spake most hideous 
words of blasphemy, &c. I have seen myself, letters 
written from Abingdon, where, among both soldiers and 
people, this contagion did then prevail, full of horrid 
oaths, curses, and blasphemy, not fit to be repeated by 
the tongue or pen of man ; and these all uttered as the 
effect of knowledge, and a part of their religion, in a 
fanatic strain, and fathered on the Spirit of God. But 
the horrid villanies of this sect did speedily extinguish it." 



40 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAfT. 

foot, let me not be deceived, I humbly beseech 
thee." Such a prayer, offered in sincerity and 
faith, could not be denied. " Blessed be God," 
continues Bunyan, " who put it into my heart to 
cry to him to be kept and directed, still distrust- 
ing mine own wisdom ; for I have since seen 
even the effects of that prayer, in his preserving 
me, not only from ranting errors, but from those 
also that have sprung up since." 

Bunyan*s danger from this seducing and fatal 
heresy was rendered the more imminent from the 
fact, that it had been embraced by his " intimate 
religious companion," — the poor man whose 
"pleasant talk of the Scriptures" had first led 
him " into some love and liking of religion." 
But this man, going on from bad to worse, soon, 
by the looseness of his life, became a warning 
rather than a snare. He gave himself up to all 
manner of iniquity ; denied that there was a 
God, angel, or spirit, and laughed at all ex- 
hortations to sobriety. " When I laboured to 
rebuke his wickedness," says Bunyan, " he 
would laugh the more, and pretend that he had 
gone through all religions, and could never hit 
upon the right till now. He told me also, that 
in a little time I should see all professors turn 
to the ways of the Ranters. Wherefore, abomi- 
iiating their cursed principles, I left his com- 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 41 

pany forthwith, and became to him as great a 
stranger as I had been before a familiar." 

But this man was not Bunyan's only tempta- 
tion. His calling frequently led him into the 
country, where he was often thrown into the 
company of persons who were once strict in 
religion, but had been drawn away by the 
Ranters. " These," he says, " would also talk 
with me of their ways, and condemn me as legal 
and dark ; pretending that they only had attain- 
ed to perfection that could do what they would 
and not sin. ! these temptations were suita- 
ble to my flesh, I being but a young man ; but 
God, who had, as I hoped, designed me for better 
things, kept me in the fear of his name, and did 
not suffer me to embrace such cursed principles." 

He now took increased delight in the Scrip- 
tures. " The Bible," he says, " was precious 
to me in those days. And methought I began 
to look into it with new eyes, and read as I 
never did before, and especially the Epistles of 
St. Paul were sweet and pleasant to me ; and 
indeed then I was never out of the Bible, either 
by reading or meditation ; still crying out to 
God that I might know the truth, and way to 
heaven and glory." 

Some passages of Paul's Epistles, which he 
now read with so much attention, but without 



42 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

any spiritual guide or instructer, occasioned his 
being assaulted by many sore temptations. He 
found the apostle constantly speaking about 
faith, and he was led to doubt whether he had 
faith or not ; this, however, was a doubt which 
he could not bear, being certain that if he were 
without faith he must perish ; he therefore de- 
termined, " at a venture," to conclude that he 
was not altogether faithless, though he con- 
fessed he knew not what faith was. This 
" blind conclusion," as he calls it, did not long 
satisfy him, — he could not rest content until he 
had some certain knowledge, and therefore 're- 
solved to put himself on the trial, whether he 
had faith or not. At this point, " being put to 
a plunge about it," and having as yet opened 
his mind on the subject to no one, " the tempt- 
er/' he says. " came in with this delusion, that 
there was no way for me to know I had faith, but 
by trying to work some miracles ; urging those 
scriptures that seem to look that way for the en- 
forcing and strengthening his temptation. Nay, 
one day, as I was between Elstow and Bedford, 
the temptation was hot upon me, to try if I had 
faith, by doing some miracle, which miracle at 
this time was this : I must say to the puddles 
that were in the horse-pads, ' Be dry ;' and to 
the dry places, ' Be you puddles :' and truly one 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 43 

time I was going to say so indeed ; but just as 
I was about to speak, this thought came into 
my mind, But go under yonder hedge and pray 
first, that God will make you able. But when 
I had concluded to pray, this came hot upon 
me, that if I prayed, and came again and tried 
to do it, and yet did nothing notwithstanding, 
then to be sure I had no faith, but was a cast- 
away, and lost. Nay, thought I, if it be so, I 
will not try yet, but will stay a little longer. 
So I continued at a great loss ; for I thought, 
if they only had faith which could do so won- 
derful things, then I concluded that, for the pre- 
sent, I neither had it, nor yet for the time to come 
were ever like to have it. Thus I was tossed 
betwixt the devil and mine own ignorance, and 
so perplexed, especially at some times, that I 
could not tell what to do." 

Bunyan evidently suspected that he had no 
faith ; but, to use his own language, he " was 
afraid to see his want" of it. The various sug- 
gestions and temptations with which he was 
now assailed he rightly attributes, in his narra- 
tive, to the agency of the evil one ; but he was 
not at the time aware of this. He was then 
" ignorant of Satan's devices." 

While he was in this state of mind the hap- 
piness of his poor friends at Bedford was pre- 



44 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

sented to him in a kind of vision — a waking 
dream; or, perhaps, during actual slumber. 
Whether dream or revery, it made a strong 
impression. He says, " I saw as if they were 
on the sunny side of some high mountain, there 
refreshing themselves with the pleasant beams 
of the sun, while I was shivering and shrinking 
in the cold, afflicted with frost, snow, and dark 
clouds. Methought, also, betwixt me and them 
I saw a wall that did compass about this mount- 
ain : now through this wall my soul did greatly 
desire to pass ; concluding that if I could, I 
would even go into the very midst of them, and 
there also comfort myself with the heat of their 
sun. About this wall I bethought myself to go 
again and again, still praying as I went, to see 
if I could find some way or passage by which 
I might enter therein ; but none could I find for 
some time. At the last I saw, as it were, a 
narrow gap, like a little doorway, in the wall, 
through which I attempted to pass. Now, the 
passage being very strait and narrow, I made 
many offers to get in, but all in vain, even until 
I was well nigh quite beat out, by striving to 
get in. At last, with great striving, methought 
I at first did get in my head ; and after that, by 
a sideling striving, my shoulders and my whole 
body : then I was exceeding glad, went and sat 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 45 

down in the midst of them, and so was com- 
forted with the light and heat of their sun.* 

" Now this mountain and wall, &c., was thus 
made out to me. The mountain signified the 
church of the living God ; the sun that shone 
thereon, the comfortable shining of his merciful 
face on them that were therein ; the wall I 
thought was the word, that did make separation 
between the Christians and the world ; and the 
gap which was in the wall, I thought was Jesus 
Christ, who is the way to God the Father. 
But forasmuch as the passage was wonderfully 
narrow, even so narrow that I could not, but 
with great difficulty, enter in thereat, it showed 
me that none could enter into life but those that 
were in downright earnest, and unless also they 
left that wicked world behind them ; for here 
was only room for body and soul, but not for 
body, soul, and sin. 

" This resemblance abode upon my spirit 
many days ; all which time I saw myself in a 
forlorn and sad condition, but yet was provoked 
to a vehement hunger and desire to be one of 
that number that did sit in the sunshine. Now 

* In this vision Dr. Southey thinks " the germ of the 
Pilgrim's Progress may plainly be perceived." May we 
not rather say, the germinating of that imagination which 
was afterward to ripen into genius ? — Conder. 



46 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

also would I pray wherever I was, whether at 
home or abroad, in house or field ; and would 
also often, with lifting up of heart, sing that of 
the fifty-first psalm, ' O Lord, consider my dis- 
tress !' for as yet I knew not where I was : 
neither as yet could I attain to any comfortable 
persuasion that I had faith in Christ ; but, in- 
stead of having satisfaction here, I began to 
find my soul to be assaulted with fresh doubts 
about my future happiness." 

These " fresh doubts" were founded chiefly 
on the Calvinistic doctrines of unconditional 
election and effectual calling, which he had pro- 
bably imbibed from his Christian friends at 
Bedford, who were members of a Baptist church 
in that place. 

He was at this time, to use his own language, 
" in a flame to find the way to heaven and 
glory ;" but the question, whether or not he was 
one of the elect, so discouraged him, that at 
times he seemed " as if the very strength of his 
body had been taken away by the force and 
power thereof. " While his mind was harassed 
with this question, he found a stumbling-block 
in the following text : — " It is neither in him 
that willeth, nor in him that runneth, but in God 
that showeth mercy," Rom. ix, 16. With this 
scripture he knew not what to do. It seemed 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 47 

to him that though he should desire, and long, 
and labour, until his heart broke, no good could 
come of it unless he were a chosen vessel of 
mercy. " Therefore," he says, " this would 
stick with me, * How can you tell that you are 
elected ? and what if you should not V O Lord, 
thought I, what if I should not indeed 1 ' It may 
be you are not,' said the tempter. It may be 
so indeed, thought I. ' Why then,' said Satan, 
* you had as good leave off, and strive no fur- 
ther ; for if, indeed, you should not be elected, 
there is no hope of your being saved.' " And 
then the text that had perplexed him was brought 
again to his mind ; and he, not knowing how 
to answer these temptations, " was driven to 
his wits' end," little thinking, he says, that it 
was " Satan had thus assaulted him," but that 
it was " his own prudence" that had started the 
question ; for that none but the elect should be 
saved, was a doctrine he had embraced without 
scruple, but whether he " was one of them, 
there lay the question.'''' 

After he had been many weeks oppressed 
and cast down by his doubts on this subject, 
and when, as he tells us, he had well nigh 
" given up the ghost of all his hopes," his mind 
was suddenly relieved and encouraged by the 
recollection of the following passage : — " Look 



48 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

at the generations of old, and see ; did ever any 
trust in God and were confounded ?" This sub- 
lime appeal came to his mind with such force, 
"that it was as if it talked" with him. It 
seemed to say, " Begin at the beginning of 
Genesis, and read to the end of Revelation, 
and see if you can find that there was ever any 
that trusted in the Lord and was confounded." 
As soon as he got home he went with a light- 
ened heart to his Bible, to look for the text that 
had given him such comfort, not doubting that 
he should find it presently ; but, to his great 
surprise, he could not find it. He then asked 
first one good man, and then another, if they 
could tell him where it was ; but they knew of 
no such text : still he did not doubt that it was 
somewhere in the Bible. It was not till more 
than a year afterward that he met with the pas- 
sage. He was then looking over some of the 
Apocryphal books, and found it in Ecclesiasti- 
cus ii, 16. At first, he says, he was somewhat 
" daunted" at finding it in the Apocrypha ; but 
this now troubled him the less, as by this time 
he had acquired " more experience of the love 
and kindness of God ;" and besides, as the pas- 
sage contained the substance of many of the 
divine promises,* he conceived it to be his duty 
* Psa. ix, 10 ; xviii, 30 ; xxxiv, 8 ; Prov. xxix, 25 ; xxx, 5. 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 49 

to take the comfort of it, though it did not form 
a part of the inspired volume. 

This difficulty about " election" was no sooner 
got over, than another " doubt" assaulted him : 
" How if the day of grace is past ? How if you 
have overstood the time of mercy ?" and, to ag- 
gravate his trouble, the tempter presented to 
his mind " those good people at Bedford — sug- 
gesting that these being converted already, they 
were all that God would save in those parts ;" 
and that he had come too late ; these having 
got the blessing before he came. He was now 
in great distress, thinking this might indeed be 
the case ; and " went up and down, bemoaning 
his sad condition," and crying out, " O that I 
had turned sooner ! O that I had turned seven 
years ago !" He was also " angry with him- 
self," to think that he had had no more wit than 
to trifle away his time till his soul and heaven 
were lost. 

From these fears he was after awhile re- 
lieved, by the recollection of another text which, 
he remarked, came into his mind " just about 
the same place where he received his other 
encouragement." The text was Luke xiv, 22, 
23, where the servant who had been sent into 
the streets and lanes of the city to bring the 
poor, the halt, and the blind to the feast, returns 

4 



50 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

to his master, saying, " Lord, it is done as thoa 
hast commanded, and yet there is room ;" and 
the lord said unto the servant, " Go out into the 
highways and hedges, and compel them to come 
in, that my house may be filled," " These 
words," says Bunyan, " but especially those, 
* and yet there is room,' were sweet words to 
me ; for truly I thought that by them I saw there 
was place enough in heaven for me ; and, more- 
over, that when the Lord Jesus did speak these 
words, he did then think of me ; and that he, 
knowing the time would come that I should be 
afflicted with fear that there was no place left 
for rae in his bosom, did speak this word, and 
leave it upon record, that I might find help 
thereby against this vile temptation. This I 
then verily believed." 

In the " light and encouragement" Ayhich this 
scripture afforded, he " went a pretty while ;" 
but it was not long before he was again " at a 
very great stand," and his difficulty now was to 
know whether he was " called" or not. He had 
been taught, and he believed, that there were 
two calls spoken of in the gospel — a common 
call, addressed without limitation or restriction 
to all men ; and a special or effectual call, which 
was addressed to the elect only, and which 
alone was accompanied with any gracious in- 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 51 

fluences of the Spirit. Thus, none but those 
who were effectually called could inherit the 
kingdom of heaven ; and Bunyan feared that he 
was not thus called. He read in the Gospels 
how the Lord said to one, " Follow me ;" and 
to another, " Come after me ;" and he thought, 
if Christ would say so to him too, how gladly 
would he run after him ! 

" I cannot now express," he says, " with what 
longings and breathings in my soul I cried to 
Christ to call me. Thus I continued for a time, 
all in a flame to be converted to Jesus Christ ; 
and did also see at that day such glory in a con- 
verted state, that I could not be contented with- 
out a share therein. Gold ! could it have been 
gotten for gold, what would I have given for it ! 
Had I had a whole world, it had all gone ten 
thousand times over for this, that my soul might 
have been in a converted state. How lovely 
now was every one in my eyes that I thought 
to be converted men and women ! They shone, 
they walked like a people that carried the broad 
seal of heaven about them. O ! I saw the lot 
was fallen to them in pleasant places, and they 
had a goodly heritage." 

One passage of Scripture, or rather his inter- 
pretation of it, gave him at this period no little 
discouragement. It was Mark iii, 13, "He 



52 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

(Jesus) went up into a mountain, and called to 
him whom he would, and they came unto him." 
" That which made me fear," he says, " was 
this ; — lest Christ should have no liking to me, 
for he called whom he would. But O ! the glory 
that I saw in that condition did still so engage 
my heart, that I could not read of any that 
Christ did call, but I presently wished. Would 
I had been born in their clothes ; would I had 
been born Peter ; would I had been born John ; 
or would I had been by and had heard him 
when he called him, how would I have cried, 
* O Lord, call me also !' But O ! I feared he 
would not call me." 

In this state of doubt and anxiety he contin- 
ued many months ; but at last, after much time 
spent, and many groans to God, that he might 
be a partaker of the holy and heavenly calling, 
this text " came in upon" him : " I will cleanse 
their blood, that I have not cleansed, for the 
Lord dwelleth in Zion," Joel iii, 21. These 
words, he thought, were sent to encourage him 
to wait still upon God ; and gave hini some 
hope that if he were not already, yet the time 
might come when he should indeed be convert- 
ed to Christ. 

At this stage of our narrative we cannot re- 
frain from making some remarks on the subject 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 53 

of those distressing doubts and fears which 
caused Bunyan for so many months to walk in 
darkness and almost in despair. For these 
difficulties and distractions various reasons have 
been assigned ; but we think no unprejudiced 
person can fail to perceive that they were mainly 
occasioned by his want of information on the 
subject of Christian experience, and his erro- 
neous views of Christian doctrine, which ena- 
bled the tempter to take advantage of him, so 
that he was, to use his own words, already 
quoted, " tossed betwixt the devil and his own 
ignorance." 

The theology that most prevailed in Bunyan's 
day held that God, without respect to charac- 
ter, had from all eternity elected a certain num- 
ber to eternal life, while all the rest of mankind 
were left to perish without hope. And though 
the gospel calls all men, without distinction, to 
repentance and newness of life, it was main- 
tained that this call was made in good faith only 
to the elect ; all men being by nature incapable 
of obeying it, and the strength necessary to 
enable them to do so being withheld from all 
but the favoured subjects of irresistible grace. 
These unscriptural dogmas, which, by a strange 
perversion of language, were termed, by their 
advocates, the " doctrines of grace .'" he had 



54 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

" embraced without scruple," and hence his 
doubts and perplexities. They were the natu- 
ral result of a belief in such doctrines, and he 
was neither the first nor the last who by them 
has been driven well nigh to despair. Only let 
a broken-hearted penitent be fully persuaded 
that " God will" not " have all men to be saved," 
and that " his tender mercies are" not " over all 
his works," and he will hardly be persuaded to 
entertain any hope of mercy, until, as was the 
case with Bunyan, some gracious promise takes 
such fast hold of his mind and heart as to cast, 
for the time, all his preconceived notions into 
the shade. 

After all, Bunyan rather jumped over than 
got fairly through his perplexities. The pas- 
sages of Scripture from which he received en- 
couragement were of general application, and 
of themselves contained nothing that was calcu- 
lated to afford encouragement to a believer in 
the Calvinistic doctrines of election and repro- 
bation. If the Scripture told him that " yet 
there is room," it spoke the same language to 
every sinner in Bedford, Elstow, or elsewhere ; 
and the same may be said of the other passages. 
Accordingly it appears from his own narrative 
that he derived his encouragement less from the 
language of the texts, than from the way in which 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 55 

they came to him. In the course of his daily- 
reading, for he was now a most diligent peruser 
of the Scriptures, he must previously have met 
not only with the passages he has specified, but 
with scores of others equally if not more en- 
couraging ; but coming to him in the ordinary 
way there was nothing to strike his attention — 
nothing to give them a special application to 
himself. It was their sudden and unexpected 
recurrence to his mind that excited his hopes. 
Of one text he says, " it seized upon his heart 
so suddenly — it was as if it had talked with 
him ;" and of another, " it broke in upon his 
mind ;" and the latter made the greater impres- 
sion from the fact of its occurring in or near " the 
same place where he received his other encour- 
agement." " He laid," says Mr. Philip, "much 
stress upon these accidents or coincidences. . . . 
The ripest fruit of the Tree of Life was not 
sweet enough for him then, unless it fell at his 
feet by some happy accident, or was wrapped 
up in other leaves than its own. In like man- 
ner, it was not enough for him to meet with 
truths which were lights shining in a dark place : 
they must both dart and dazzle, and that sud- 
denly, in order to make the ' Day-star' of hope 
arise in his heart." Coming to his mind as 
they did, he regarded them not in the light of 



56 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

general promises, but as particular revelations 
to himself : he " thought they were specially 
sent to encourage Am," and thus he contrived 
to " take the comfort of them," and still retain 
his Calvinistic notions, which indeed he held 
fast to the close of his life. His troubles on 
this score, however, were far from being over 
yet ; he had still, as we shall see presently, 
many a severe conflict to pass through. Indeed, 
resting his confidence rather on sudden impulses 
and feelings, than on the general declarations 
of Scripture, it was but natural that the hopes 
thus inspired should fail him in his more de- 
sponding hours. 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 57 



CHAPTER IV. 

BUNYAN's religious experience : EXTRAOR- 
DINARY TEMPTATIONS AND CONFLICTS. 

After Bunyan had suffered some years of anx- 
ious perplexity respecting his spiritual state, 
and while his mind was still agitated between 
hope and fear as to the probability of his even- 
tual conversion, he wisely resolved to open his 
mind to some of his Christian friends ; for hith- 
erto, though he had long been " a brisk talker 
in the matter of religion," he had kept his doubts 
and conflicts to himself, a course which had 
doubtless contributed in no small degree to ag- 
gravate them. He now imparted his feelings 
and perplexities to the poor women, already 
mentioned, at Bedford ; and they, when they 
had heard his story, referred the case to Mr. 
Gifford, their minister. 

The history of Gifford is scarcely less re- 
markable than that of Bunyan himself. He had 
taken an active part in the civil war, having 
been a major in the king's army. Continuing 
true to his cause after the ruin of his party, he 
engaged in an insurrection, having for its object 
the restoration of the king ; but he was appre- 



58 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

hended, and, with eleven others, condemned to 
be hanged. On the eve of his intended execu- 
tion, however, he was visited by his sister, who, 
finding the sentinels fast asleep without, and 
his fellow-prisoners dead drunk within, gave 
him the information, and urged him to embrace 
the opportunity to escape. He did so, and hav- 
ing safely passed the sleeping guards, fled to 
the fields, and concealed himself for three days 
in a ditch, during which time diligent but una- 
vailing search was made for him in all direc- 
tions. He was then, by the help of his friends, 
conveyed in disguise to London, and afterward 
to other parts of the country, finding conceal- 
ment and protection in the houses of those who 
were attached to the royal party. 

As soon as the danger was over he went to 
Bedford, where, exchanging the military for the 
medical profession, he supported himself by the 
practice of physic. 

GifTord was at this period leading a profligate 
and reckless life ; notoriously abandoned to 
vice ; a drunkard, a swearer, and a gambler. 
So thoroughly did he hate the Puritans, that he 
often thought of killing one Anthony Harring- 
ton, for no other reason than that he was a lead- 
ing man among them at Bedford. Although an 
habitual gambler, he was rarely a successful 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 59 

one ; and having one night lost fifteen pounds, 
(about seventy dollars,) a large sum for a person 
in his circumstances, he became furious, and 
indulged " many desperate thoughts against 
God." Happening to look into one of the 
works of the Rev. Robert Bolton, something 
which he read there startled him into a sense 
of his own condition ; his conscience was ar- 
rested, and for a month or more he remained in 
a state of great distress under conviction of sin. 
At length the divine Spirit so enlightened his 
mind with respect to the way of forgiveness 
through Christ, that he was soon " filled with 
joy and peace in believing ;" and so clear and 
abiding was the " witness of the Spirit " to his 
spirit that he was a child of God, that from this 
period to within a few days of his death he 
declared, "he lost not the light of God's coun- 
tenance, no, not for an hour." 

Having thus " passed from death unto life," 
he sought an acquaintance with the people of 
God ; but he had been so notorious for his vile- 
ness and his enmity to religion, that they, like 
the disciples at Jerusalem with Saul of Tarsus, 
" were all afraid of him, and believed not that 
he was a disciple." Being however of a bold 
and ardent temperament, he would not be re- 
pulsed, but " would thrust himself again and 



60 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

again into their company," until at last they 
were convinced of his sincerity, and gave him 
the right hand of fellowship. 

Constrained by the love of Christ, he now 
began to speak and exhort, first in private, and 
afterward in a more public manner. His min- 
istry was attended with good success, and a 
number believed and turned to the Lord. His 
next concern was to see the professing believers 
with whom he was connected, united together 
in church fellowship. He proposed the subject 
to them, and they set apart many days for so- 
lemn prayer, to seek direction from above. In- 
quiries were made into the practice of religious 
societies in the neighbourhood, and the Scrip- 
tures. were diligently searched. At length, in 
the year 1650, they came to a resolution that a 
select number should form themselves into a 
body, and so lay the foundation of a Christian 
church ; and accordingly Mr. Gifford, with 
eleven other " grave and serious Christians," 
of whom Anthony Harrington was one, " ap- 
pointed a day for this solemn transaction, when 
they met together, and after fervent prayer, first 
gave themselves up to the Lord, and afterward 
to one another, according to the will of God. 
This done, they with one consent made choice 
of Mr. Giflford to be their pastor, or elder, to 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNVAN". 61 

minister to them in the things of the kingdom 
of Christ." The principles on which they en- 
tered into this fellowship with one another, and 
the conditions on which they afterward admitted 
those who desired to join them, were faith in 
Christ, and holiness oflife, without respect to any 
difference in outward and circumstantial things. 

Such was the man who now became Bun- 
yan's spiritual adviser and pastor, and whom, 
in his Pilgrim's Progress, he has immortalized 
under the name of Evangelist. 

Gifford, when informed of Bunyan's case, 
took occasion to talk with him on the subject, 
and invited him to his house, where he might 
hear him converse with others about the deal- 
ings of God with their souls. This at first 
served only to increase his convictions, and 
deepen his distress ; for it led him to discover 
" something of the vanity and inward wicked- 
ness of his heart," and he saw " that lusts and 
corruptions put forth themselves Avithin him in 
wicked thoughts and desires, which he did not 
regard (or notice) before." The effect of all 
this was to reduce him for a time to a state of 
religious despondency bordering on despair. 
" My desire also for heaven and life," he says, 
" began to fail, I found that whereas before my 
soul was full of longing after God, it now began 



62 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

to hanker after every foolish vanity ; yea, my 
heart would not be moved to mind that which 
was good : it began to be careless, both of my 
soul and heaven : it would now continually hang 
back, both to, and in, every duty ; and was as a 
clog on the leg of a bird to hinder him from flying. 
" Nay, I thought, now I grow worse and 
worse ; now I am further from conversion than 
ever I was before ; ' wherefore I began to sink 
greatly in my soul, and began to entertain such 
discouragement in my heart, as laid me low as 
hell. , . . Sometimes I would tell my condition 
to the people of God ; which, when they heard, 
they would pity me, and tell me of the pro- 
mises : but they had as good have told me that 
I must reach the sun with my finger, as have 
bidden me receive, or rely upon, the promises ; 
and as soon I should have done it. All my 
sense and feeling was against me ; and I saw I 
had a heart that would sin, and that lay under 
a law that would condemn. ... I was more 
loathsome in mine own eyes than a toad, and I 
thought I was so in God's eyes too. Sin and 
corruption, I said, would as naturally bubble out 
of my heart as water would bubble out of a 
fountain. I thought now that every one had a 
better heart than I had ; I could have changed 
hearts with anybody ; I thought none but the 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. * 63 

devil himself could equalize me for inward wick- 
edness and pollution of mind. I fell therefore, 
at the sight of my own vileness, deeply into 
despair ; for I concluded that this condition I 
was in could not stand with a state of grace. 
' Sure,' thought I, ' I am forsaken of God ; sure I 
am given up to the devil, and a reprobate mind.' 

" Further, in those days I should find my heart 
to shut itself up against the Lord, and against 
his holy word. I have found my unbelief to 
set, as it were, the shoulder to the door, to keep 
him out ; and that too even then when I have, 
with many a bitter sigh, cried, ' Good Lord, 
break it open : Lord, break these gates of brass, 
and cut these bars of iron asunder.' 

" And now I was sorry that God had made 

me man ; for / feared I was a reprobate 

Yea, I thought it impossible that ever I should 
attain to so much godliness of heart as to thank 
God that he had made me a man. . . . The 
beasts, birds, fishes, <fec., — I blessed their con- 
dition, for they had not a sinful nature ; they 
were not obnoxious to the wrath of God ; they 
were not to go to hell-fire after death ; I could 
therefore have rejoiced had my condition been 
as any of theirs. 

" But all this while, as to the act of sinning, 
I was never more tender than now. I durst 



64 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

not take a pin, or stick, though but so big as a 
straw ; for my conscience now was sore, and 
would smart at every touch. I could not tell 
how to speak my words, for fear I should mis- 
place them. O how cautiously did 1 then go 
in all I did or said ! I found myself in a miry 
bog, that shook if I did but stir, and was as then 
left both of God, and Christ, and the Spirit, and 
all good things." 

But Bunyan was willing to bear " a wounded 
spirit," rather than put up with a false peace. 
" He dreaded," says Philip, " a seared con- 
science more than a sad heart." Like his own 
Pilgrim, he was now struggling in " the Slough 
of Despond;" like him too he was determined 
that if he got out it should be " on that side 
which was next the wicket gate." He says, 
" Though I was much troubled, and tossed, and 
afflicted with the sight, and sense, and terror of 
my own wickedness, yet I was afraid to let this 
sight and sense go quit'e off my mind ; for I 
found that unless guilt of conscience was taken 
off the right way, that is, by the blood of Christ, 
a man grew rather worse for the loss of his 
trouble of mind. Therefore if my guilt lay hard 
upon me, then w^ould I cry that the blood of 
Christ might take it off; and if it was going off 
without it, (for the sense of sin would be some- 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 65 

times as if it would die, and go quite away,) 
then I would also strive to fetch it upon my 
heart again, .... and would cry, ' Lord, let 
it not go off my heart but the right way.' " He 
had seen some who were once under great alarm 
of conscience, but who, seeking " present ease 
for their trouble, rather than pardon for their 
sin," had lost their convictions, and become more 
hardened and wicked than before ; he feared 
therefore lest this should be the case with him. 
In this condition he remained for many 
months ; but at length he obtained from a ser- 
mon upon a strange text, strangely handled, that 
comfort which, had there not been a mist be- 
fore his understanding, he might have found in 
every page of the gospel. The text was Sol- 
omon's Song, iv, 1, " Behold, thou art fair, my 
love ; behold, thou art fair !" The preacher 
dwelt chiefly on the words, " my love," and the 
following passage in his sermon fastened upon 
Bunyan's mind : — " If it be so, that the saved 
soul is Christ's love when under temptation 
and destruction, then, poor tempted soul, when 
thou art assaulted and afflicted with temptations, 
and the hiding of God's face, yet think on these 
two words, ' my love,'' still." " What," said 
Bunyan to himself as he was going homeward, 
" shall I get by thinking on these two words ?" 

5 



66 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

This thought had no sooner passed through his 
heart but these words, "Thou art my love, thou 
art my love," began to kindle his spirit ; " and 
still," he says, " as they ran in my mind, they 
waxed stronger and warmer, and began to make 
me look up ; but being as yet between hope and 
fear, I still replied in my heart, ' But is it true ; 
but is it true V at which this sentence fell upon 
me, ' He wist not that it was true, which was 
done unto him of the angel,' Acts xii, 9. 

"Then I began to give place to the word 
which, with power, did over and over make 
this joyful sound within my soul, ' Thou art my 
love ; thou art my love ; and nothing shall sepa- 
rate thee from my love.' And with that my 
heart was full of comfort and hope ; and now I 
could believe that my sins would be forgiven 
me. Yea, I was now so taken with the love 
and mercy of God, that I remember I could not 
tell how to contain till I got home. I thought 
I could have spoken of his love, and have told 
of his mercy to me, even to the very crows that 
sat upon the ploughed lands before me, had they 
been capable to have understood me." 

Bunyan's " wish to speak to the crows," says 
Mr. Philip, " is no weakness. It is not unna- 
tural, however unusual it may be. David went 
lower than Bunyan, and called even on 'creep- 



LIFE OF JOH.V BUNYAX. 67 

ing things/ as well as upon ' flying fowl and 
all cattle,' to praise the Lord with him. When- 
ever his adoring gratitude became unspeakable 
to his lips, or unutterable by his harp, he inva- 
riably devolved the song of praise, not only upon 
all the armies of heaven, but upon all the works 
of nature also. He turned the universe into a 
vast orchestra, and tuned all its voices to the 
melody of his own heart. Bunyan remembered 
this when his own harp required help ; and thus 
wished to tell the crows his joy. The fact is, 
there is a ' fulness of heart' which must speak, 
and yet cannot speak fast enough, or loud 
enough." 

So ecstatic were Bunyan's feelings at this 
time, that he thought he should not forget it 
forty years hence ; " but alas !" he adds, "with- 
in less than forty days I began to question all 
again." About a week or fortnight afterward 
this text was strongly impressed upon his mind : 
" Simon, Simon, behold Satan hath desired to 
have thee ;" and so strongly did these words 
seem to sound within him, and around him, that 
on one occasion he turned his head over his 
shoulder, verily thinking that some one about 
half a mile behind was addressing them to him; 
and although Simon was not his name, " yet," 
he says, " it made me suddenly look behind me. 



68 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

believing that he that called so loud meant me.'* 
At the time, he tells us, he wondered much that 
this scripture should thus so often, and so loud- 
ly, be sounding and rattling in his ears ; but in 
the sequel he was fully persuaded that it was a 
warning sent from heaven to premonish him 
that a great cloud and storm were coming down 
upon him. 

We now come to the most remarkable part 
of Bunyan's religious experience. About a 
month after the supposed warning mentioned in 
the preceding paragraph, he says, " A very great 
storm came down upon me, which handled me 
twenty times worse than all I had met with be- 
fore. It came stealing upon me, now by one 
piece, then by another ; first, all my comfort 
was taken from me ; then darkness seized upon 
me ; after which whole floods of blasphemies, 
both against God, Christ, and the Scriptures, 
were poured upon my spirit, to my great confu- 
sion and astonishment,* These blasphemous 
thoughts were such as stirred up questions in 

* Bunyan had evidently an eye to this part of his ex- 
perience when he penned the following passage in his 
Pilgrim's Progress. It occurs in the description of Chris, 
tian's passing through the Valley of the Shadow of Death : 
— " One thing I would not let slip : I took notice that 
now poor Christian was so much confounded, that he did 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 69 

me against the very being of God, and of his 
only-beloved Son ; as whether there were in 
truth a God, or Christ ; and whether the Scrip- 
tures were not rather a fable and cunning story 
than the holy and pure word of God. 

" These suggestions, with many others which 
at this time I may not nor dare not utter by 
word or pen, did make such a seizure upon my 
spirit, and did so overweigh my heart, both with 
their number, continuance, and fiery force, that 
I felt as if there were nothing else but these 
from morning to night within me ; and as though 
indeed there could be room for nothing else : 
and also concluded that God had, in very wrath 
to my soul, given me up to them, to be carried 
away with them as with a mighty whirlwind." 

His only consolation, at this time, seemed to 

not know his own voice ; and thus I perceived it : just 
when he was come over against the mouth of the burn- 
ing pit, one of the wicked ones got behind him, and 
stepped up softly to him, and whisperingly suggested 
many grievous blasphemies to him, which he verily 
thought had proceeded from his own mind. This put 
Christian more to it than anything that he met with be- 
fore, even to think that he should now blaspheme Him 
that he loved so much before. Yet if he could have 
helped it he would not have done it ; but he had not the 
discretion either to stop his ears, or to know from whence 
those blasphemies came." 



70 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

arise from a consciousness that there was some- 
thing in him which did not consent to these 
suggestions ; and even this conviction was ge- 
nerally borne down by the strength and force of 
the temptation. He thought himself surely pos- 
sessed of the devil ; he says he was " bound 
in the wings of temptation, and the wind would 
carry him away." 

" In those days," he continues, " when I have 
heard others talk of what was the sin against 
the Holy Ghost, then would the tempter so pro- 
voke me to desire to sin that sin, that I was as 
if I could not, must not, neither should be quiet 
until I had committed it. Now no sin would 
serve but that. If it were to be committed by 
speaking of such a word, then I have been as 
if my mouth would have spoken that word, 
whether I would or no ; and in so strong a mea- 
sure was this temptation upon me, that often I 
have been ready to clap my hands under my 
chin, to hold my mouth from opening ; and to 
that end also I have had thoughts, at other times, 
to leap, with my head downward, into some muck 
hole or other, to keep my mouth from opening. 

" And now my heart was at times exceeding 
hard. If I would have given a thousand pounds 
for a tear, I could not shed one ; no, nor some- 
times scarce desire to shed one. I was much 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 71 

dejected, to think that this should be my lot. I 
saw some could mourn and lament their sin ; 
and others again could rejoice and bless God 
for Christ ; and others again could quietly talk 
of, and with gladness remember, the word of 
God ; while I only was in a storm or tempest. 
This much sunk me : I thought my condition 
was alone : I should therefore much bewail my 
hard hap ; but get out of or get rid of these things 
I could not." 

While this temptation lasted, which was about 
a year, he was most distressed when attending 
public worship, or reading the Scriptures, or 
engaged in prayer. Frequently when praying, 
he imagined that he feit the enemy behind him, 
pulling his clothes, bidding him " have done — 
break off — make haste — you have prayed 
enough," &c. When he strove hard to com- 
pose his mind, and fix it upon God, the tempter 
laboured to distract him, by presenting to his 
fancy the form of a bush, a bull, or some other 
material object, as if he were praying to them. 
" To these," says Bunyan, " he would also (at 
sometimes especially) so hold my mind, that I 
was as if I could think of nothing else, or pray 
to nothing else but to these, or such as these." 
Worse thoughts were sometimes suggested, such 
as, " If thou wilt fall down and worship me 1 " 



72 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

Yet at times he had " strong and affecting 
apprehensions of God, and of the truth of the 
gospel ;" when his heart would put forth its 
desires in inexpressible groanings. " My whole 
soul," he says, " was then in every word. I 
should cry with pangs after God, that he would 
be merciful unto me. But then I should be 
daunted again with such conceits as these : — 
that God did mock at these my prayers, saying, 
and that in the audience of the holy angels, 
* This poor simple wretch doth hanker after 
me, as if I had nothing to do with my mercy 
but to bestow it on such as he. Alas ! poor 
soul, how art thou deceived ! It is not for thee 
to have favour with the Highest.' 

" Then hath the tempter come upon me also 
with such discouragements as these : ' You are 
very hot after mercy, but I will cool you. This 
frame shall not last always. Many have been as 
hot as you for a spirt, but I have quenched their 
zeal ;' and with this, such and such who were 
fallen off would be set before mine eyes. Then 
I would be afraid that I would do so too ; but, 
thought I, I will watch, and takt what care I 
can. ' Though you do,' said Satan, ' I shall be 
too hard for you. I will cool you insensibly — 
by degrees — by little and little. What care I, 
though I be seven years in chilling your heart, 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNTAN. 73 

if I can do it at last? Continual rocking will 
lull a crying child asleep. I will ply it close, 
but I will have my end accomplished. Though 
you be burning hot at present, yet I can pull 
you from this fire. I shall have you cold before 
it be long.' . . . But I thank Christ Jesus, these 
things did not at present make me slack my 
crying, but rather did put me more upon it." 

Bunyan was not, however, without some brief 
seasons of comfort during this year of tempta- 
tion. The invitation in Jer. iii, 1, "Thou hast 
played the harlot with many lovers ; yet return 
again to me, saith the Lord," afforded him some 
support, as did also the fourth verse, " Wilt thou 
not from this time cry unto me. My Father, thou 
art the guide of my youth ?" He had also " a 
sweet glance from 2 Cor. v, 21, ' For he hath 
made him to be sin for us, who knew no sin ; 
that we might be made the righteousness of God 
in him.' " One day, while sitting in a neigh- 
bour's house, bemoaning his sad case, and ask- 
ing himself what ground one " so vile and abo- 
minable" could have to think that he should ever 
inherit eternal life, — this text " came suddenly" 
to his mind, " What shall we say to these things? 
If God be for us, who can be against us ?" Those 
words of our Saviour, " Because I live ye shall 
live also," (John xiv, 19,) were likewise a help 



74 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

to him. These however, he says, " were but 
hints, touches, and short visits, though very 
sweet when present ; only they lasted not ; but, 
like to Peter's sheet, of a sudden were caught 
up from me to heaven again. Acts x, 16. 

" But afterward the Lord did more fully and 
graciously discover himself unto me ; and in- 
deed did quite, not only deliver me from the 
guilt that by these things was laid upon my 
conscience, but also from the very filth thereof; 
for the temptation was removed, and I was put 
into my right mind again, as other Christians 
were. 

" I remember that one day, as I was travel- 
ling in the country, and musing on the wicked- 
ness and blasphemy of my heart, and consider- 
ing the enmity that was in me to God, this 
scripture came into my mind, ' He hath made 
peace by the blood of his cross,' (Col. i, 20,) by 
which I was made to see, both again and again, 
that day, that God and my soul were friends by 
his blood. This was a good day to me ; I hope 
I shall never forget it. 

" At another time, as I sat by the fire in my 
house, and musing on my wretchedness, the 
Lord made this also a precious word to me, — 
* Forasmuch then as the children are partakers 
of flesh and blood, he also himself likewise took 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 75 

part of the same ; that through death he might 
destroy him that had the power of death, that 
is, the devil ; and deliver them w^ho, through 
fear of death, were all their lifetime subject to 
bondage,' Heb. ii, 14, 15. I thought that the 
glory of these words was then so weighty upon 
me, that I was both once and twice ready to 
swoon as I sat ; yet not with grief and trouble, 
but with solid joy and peace." 

From a state of the deepest despondency, 
Bunyan now seemed for a time to be filled with 
religious joy ; and his present light and peace 
appeared the brighter and deeper by contrast 
with his previous darkness and despondency. 
But to return to his own narrative : " Now," 
says he, " was my soul led from truth to truth 
by God ; ... for to my remembrance there was 
not anything that I then cried unto God to 
make knovi^n and reveal unto me, but he was 
pleased to do it for me. I mean, not one part 
of the gospel of the Lord Jesus, but I was or- 
derly led into it. Methought I saw with great 
evidence, from the four evangelists, the wonder- 
ful works of God, in giving Jesus Christ to save 
us — from his conception and birth, even to his 
second coming to judgment. Methought I was 
as if I had seen him born ; as if I had seen him 
grow up J as if I had seen him walk through the 



76 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

world, from the cradle to the cross ; to which 
also, when he came, I saw how gently he gave 
himself to be hanged and nailed on it for my 
sins and wicked doing. 

" When I have considered also the truth of 
his resurrection, and have remembered that 
word, ' Touch me not, Mary,' &c., I have seen 
as if he had leaped out of the grave's mouth, for 
joy that he was risen again, and had got the 
conquest over our dreadful foes, saying, ' I as- 
cend unto my Father and your Father ; and to 
my God and to your God,' John xx, 17. I have 
also, in the spirit, seen him a man, on the right 
hand of God the Father for me ; and have seen 
the manner of his coming from heaven to judge 
the world with glory, and have been confirmed 
in these things by these scriptures, — Acts i, 9- 
11 ; vii, 55, 56 ; x, 42 ; Heb. vii, 24 ; ix, 28 ; 
Rev. i, 18; 1 Thess. iv, 16-18. 

" Now I had, as I thought, an evidence from 
heaven of my salvation, with many golden seals 
thereon, all hanging in my sight. Now I could 
remember with comfort this manifestation, and 
the other discovery of grace ; and should often 
long and desire that the last day were come, 
that I might be for ever inflamed with the sight, 
and joy, and communion with Him whose head 
was crowned with thorns, whose face was spit 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 77 

upon, and body broken, and soul made an offer- 
ing for my sins. For whereas before I lay 
continually trembling at the month of hell ; now 
methought I was got so far therefrom, that I 
could, when I looked back, scarce discern it ; 
and O, thought I, that I were fourscore years 
old now, that I might die quickly, that my soul 
might be gone to rest !" 

Bunyan's ardent temperament, his vivid im- 
agination, and his simplicity, are strikingly dis- 
played in the preceding paragraphs. His cre- 
ative fancy, which gave a form and shape — 
almost a material existence — to the suogestions 
and temptations of the adversary, was equally 
active in his happier hours ; and what he saw 
and felt he has recorded in language of extra- 
ordinary power, and with the sincerity and earn- 
estness of a man who is evidently telling all his 
heart. It is this, in a great measure, which 
gives to Bunyan's experience its unique cha- 
racter. It is sui generis. Of it may be said, as 
was of Goliah's sword, " There is none like it," 
1 Sam. xxi, 9. It cannot, therefore, as Mr. 
Philip well remarks, be taken as " a safe stand- 
ard to try experimental knowledge by. . . . Not 
one mind in a thousand could have darted, like 
his, as with eagle-wings and eagle-eyes, from 
the cradle to the cross of the Saviour, realizing 



78 LirE OP JOHN BUNYAN. 

every scene, as if an actual witness of the suf- 
ferings and glory of Christ. This no more be- 
longs to divine teaching necessarily, than does 
the povrer of inventing the Pilgrim's Progress, 
or of depicting the Holy War." 

Before Bunyan had emerged from the tempt- 
ations to which he had been subjected, he had 
greatly longed to acquaint himself with the ex- 
perience of " some ancient godly man," who 
had lived and wrote hundreds of years before ; 
for he seemed to think that the divines of his 
own day were not equal to those of former ages, 
and that they merely " writ what others felt, and 
studied to answer such objections as they per- 
ceived others were perplexed with, without go- 
ing down themselves into the deep." While this 
desire was strong in his mind, an old copy of 
Luther's Commentary on the Galatians fell into 
his hands. It was so old, and had been sol 
much used, that it was ready to drop to pieces 
if he " did but turn it over ;" but this only re- 
commended it to Bunyan, vi^hose imagination 
then connected with antiquity the idea of supe- 
rior wisdom and greater depth of religious ex- 
perience. He had not read far before he found 
his own condition " so largely and profoundly 
handled," and his experience so faithfully re- 
flected in that of the great reformer, that it 



I 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 79 

seemed to him, he says, " as if the book had 
been written out of his own heart." The peru- 
sal of this volume produced for a time the hap- 
piest effect upon his mind. It gave him to see 
the source of many of his temptations and per- 
plexities, and pointed out to him the " way to 
escape." So highly did he value the work, 
that, speaking of it many years after, he says, 
" I do prefer this book of Martin Luther upon 
the Galatians above all the books that ever I 
have seen, (excepting the Holy Bible,) as most 
fit for a wounded conscience." 

Bunyan now for a season " went on his way 
rejoicing," and began to sing, with the Psalmist, 
" My mountain stands strong ; I shall never be 
moved." He says, " Methought my soul cleaved 
unto Christ. ... I felt my love to him as hot as 
fire ; and now, as Job said, I thought I should 
* die in my nest.' " His joyful assurance, how- 
ever, was not of long continuance. He found 
that this was but a truce in his warfare ; and 
these comforts served only to support and 
strengthen him for future conflicts. " For," 
says he, " after the Lord had thus graciously 
delivered me, . . . and had given me such strong 
consolation and blessed evidence from heaven, 
touching my interest in his love through Christ, 
the tempter came upon me again, and that with 



80 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

a more grievous and dreadful temptation than 
before. iVnd that was, to sell and part with this 
most blessed Christ ; to exchange him for the 
things of this life — for anything. This tempta- 
tion lay upon me for the space of a year ; and 
did follow me so continually that I was not rid 
of it one day in a month ; no, not sometimes one 
hour in many days together, unless when I was 
asleep. . . . Neither my dislike of the thought, 
nor yet any desire and endeavour to resist it, 
did in the least shake or abate the continuance 
or strength thereof ; for it did always, in almost 
whatever I thought, intermix itself therewith, in 
such sort, that I could neither eat my food, stoop 
for a pin, chop a stick, or cast mine eye to look 
on this or that, but still the temptation would 
come, ' Sell Christ for this ; or sell Christ for 
that ; sell him — sell him ;' against which, I may 
say, for whole hours together, I have been forced 
to stand as continually leaning and forcing my 
spirit against it, lest haply, before I was aware, 
some wicked thought might arise in my heart, 
that might consent thereto ; and sometimes the 
tempter would make me believe I had consent- 
ed to it ; but then I should be as tortured upon 
a rack, for whole days together. 

" This temptation did put me in such scares, 
lest I should at some time be overcome there- 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 81 

with, that by the very force of my mind, in la- 
bouring to resist this wickedness, my very body 
would be put in action, by way of pushing or 
thrusting with my hands or elbows ; still an- 
swering, as fast as the destroyer said, Sell him, 
* I will not, I will not, I will not ; no, not for 
thousands, thousands, thousands of worlds;* 
thus reckoning, lest I should, in the midst of 

these assaults, set too low a value on him, 

even until I scarce knew where I was, or how 
to be composed again." 

Sometimes the tempter assumed the garb of 
" an angel of light." " In those seasons," says 
Bunyan, " he would not let me eat my food in 
quiet ; but, forsooth, when I was at the table, I 
must go hence to pray ; I must leave my food 
now, and just now ; so counterfeit holy would 
this devil be. When I was thus tempted, I 
would say in myself, ' Now I am at meat, let 
me make an end.' ' No,' said he, ' you must do 
it now, or you will displease God, and despise 
Christ.' " With these suggestions he was much 
distracted ; for he did not at the time know their 
source. The truth is, the devil's counterfeit 
holiness deceived him; and believing these 
impulses to be from heaven, he felt, when he 
disobeyed them, as though he had broken a 
command of God. 

6 



82 LIFE or JOHN BUNYAN. 

But to return : " One morning," he says, "as 
I did lie in my bed, I was, as at other times, 
most fiercely assaulted with this temptation, to 
sell and part with Christ ; the wicked sugges- 
tion, ' Sell him, sell him,' still running in my 
mind as fast as a man could speak ; against 
which also, in my mind, as at other times, I 
answered, ' No, not for thousands, thousands, 
thousands,' at least twenty times together. But 
at last, after much striving, even until I was 
almost out of breath, I felt this thought to pass 
through my heart, * Let him go if he will ;' and 
I thought also that I felt my heart freely con- 
sent thereto. O the diligence of Satan ! O the 
desperateness of man's heart !" 

Here again we find Bunyan in the predica- 
ment of his Pilgrim, when the latter " did not 
know his own voice ;" and believing that he had 
now yielded to the temptation and consented to 
sell his Saviour, he gave himself up as irreco- 
verably lost. " Now," says he, " v.as the battle 
won, and down fell I, as a bird that is shot from 
the top of a tree, into great guilt and fearful de- 
spair. Thus getting out of my bed, I went 
moping into the field ; but, God knows, with 
as heavy a heart as mortal man, I think, 
could bear ; where for the space of two hours 
I was like a man bereft of life, and as now 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 83 

past all recovery, and bound over to eternal pun- 
ishment." 

To add to his distress, that passage in He- 
brews (xii, 16, 17) occurred to his mind, which 
speaks of Esau having " sold his birthright for 
one morsel of meat," and afterward, " when he 
would have inherited the blessing, he was re- 
jected ; for he found no place of repentance, 
though he sought it carefully with tears." Ap- 
plying this text to his own case, he conceived 
that he was now certainly beyond the reach of 
mercy. But about ten or eleven o'clock on the 
same day, as he was walking under a hedge, 
full of sorrow and guilt, these words of the be- 
loved disciple suddenly rushed in upon him, 
" The blood of Jesus Christ his Son cleanseth 
us from all sin," 1 John i, 7. " At the same 
time also," he says, " I had my sin and the 
blood of Christ thus represented to me, — that 
my sin, when compared to the blood of Christ, 
was no more to it than this little clod or stone 
before me is to the vast and wide field that here 
I see. . . . Now I began to conceive peace in my 
soul, and methought I saw as if the tempter did 
leer and steal away from me, as being ashamed 
of what he had done." 

But this " modest fit of the devil," as one 
writer terms it, proved to be but of short dura- 



84 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

tion ; he soon returned to the charge, and in a 
few hours Bun van fell again into despondency. 
What chiefly troubled him and caused him to de- 
spair was, the passage concerning Esau, which, 
he says, " would lie all day long in my mind, and 
hold me down, so that I could by no means lift 
up myself ; for when I would strive to turn to 
this scripture or that for relief, still that sen- 
tence would be sounding in me, ' For ye know, 
how that afterward, when he would have inhe- 
rited the blessing, he found no place of repent- 
ance, though he sought it carefully with tears.' 
.... These words were to my soul like fetters 
of brass to my legs, in the continual sound of 
which I went for several months together. 

" Sometimes, indeed, I should have a touch 
from that in Luke xxii, 32, ' I have prayed for 
thee that thy faith fail not ;' but it would not 
abide with me ; neither could I, indeed, when I 
considered my state, find ground to conceive in 
the least that there should be the root of that 
grace in me, having sinned as I had done." 

In fact, he was fully persuaded that he had 
committed the " unpardonable sin ;" and in this 
opinion he was confirmed by the text concern- 
ing Esau, which, he says, stuck always with 
him. " And now," he adds, " 1 was a burden 
and a terror to myself ; nor did I ever so know. 



LIFE OF JOHN BUXYAN. 85 

as now, what it was to be weary of my life, and 
yet afraid to die. O ! how gladly now would I 
have been anybody but myself, — anything but a 
man, — and in any condition but my own ! For 
there was nothing did pass more frequently 
over my mind, than that it was impossible for 
me to be forgiven my transgression, and to be 
saved from the wrath to come. ' O,' thought I, 
' that it was with me as in months past, as in the 
days when God preserved me !' " 

But although apparently well assured in his 
own mind that his case was utterly hopeless, 
his inclinations did not keep pace with his con- 
victions. He M^as " loth and unwilling to pe- 
rish," and therefore " began to compare his sin 
with others," and searched the Bible to see if 
he could find an account of any who had sinned 
as he had done, and yet had been saved. So 
he " considered David's adultery and murder, 
and found them most heinous crimes ; and those 
too committed after light and grace received ;" 
but then he considered that David had sinned 
only against the law of Moses, whereas he had 
sinned " against the gospel, — yea, against the 
Mediator thereof;" — he had " sold his Saviour." 
So he could find no ground of comfort here. 

Next he considered the sin which Peter com- 
mitted in denying his Master ; and this, he 



86 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

thought, came nighest to his of any that he 
could find ; for Peter had, like him, denied his 
Saviour, and that too after light and mercy re- 
ceived, and warning given. " I also," says 
Bunyan, " considered that he did it once and 
twice, and that after time to consider betwixt. 
But although I put all these circumstances toge- 
ther, that if possible I might find help, yet I 
considered again that his was but a denial of his 
Master, but mine was a selling of my Saviour. 
Wherefore I thought with myself, that I came 
nearer to Judas than either to David or Peter." 
And now his belief in the doctrines of uncon- 
ditional reprobation, and God's partial love, 
helped again to point and poison the arrow 
which pierced him, and to rivet the chain with 
which his spirit was bound. " Here," he says, 
" my torment would flame out and afflict me ; 
yea, it would grind me, as it were, to powder, 
to consider the preservation of God toward 
others, while I fell into the snare ; for in my 
thus considering of other men's sins, and com- 
paring them with mine own, I could evidently 
see that God preserved them, notwithstanding 
their wickedness, and would not let them, as 
he had me, become a son of perdition. . . . Ah, 
how safely did I see them walk whom God had 
hedged in ! They were within his care, protec- 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 87 

tion, and special providence. Though they 
were full as bad as I by nature, yet because he 
loved them he would not suffer them to fall with- 
out the range of mercy ; but as for me, I was 
gone, — I had done it ; he luould not preserve me, 
nor keep me, but suffered me, because I was a 
reprobate, to fall as I had done. . . . Now I saw 
that as God had his hand in all the providences 
and dispensations that overtook his elect, so he 
had his hand in all the temptations that they 
had to sin against him. . . . He would let David, 
Hezekiah, Solomon, Peter, and others fall, but 
he would not let them fall into sin unpardona- 
ble, nor into hell for sin. O, thought I, these be 
the men that God hath loved / ... As all things 
wrought together for the best, and to do good to 
them that were the called according to his pur- 
pose, so I thought that all things wrought for 
damage, and for my eternal overthrow." 

He now set himself again to compare his 
imaginary crime with the sin of Judas, that he 
might, if possible, find some such difference 
between them as that he might reasonably con- 
clude his own was not unpardonable ; and, by 
considering, he found that Judas's sin was com- 
mitted " intentionally — with much deliberation," 
while his has been done " in a fearful hurry — 
on a sudden" — and in spite of "prayer and 



88 LIFE or JOHN BUNYAN. 

Strivings" to the contrary. This consideration 
for awhile afforded him some relief; but it was 
only like a passing gleam of sunshine, for the 
sound of Esau's fate was constantly ringing in 
bis ears, and did so " break and confound his 
spirit, that he could not tell what to do," and 
sometimes thought he should lose his wits. 
" O !" he says, " no one knows the terrors of 
those days but myself. ... I was often now 
ashamed that I should be like such an ugly 
man as Judas. I thought also how loathsome 
I should be unto all the saints in the day of 
judgment ; insomuch that I could scarce see a 
good man, that I believed had a good conscience, 
but I should feel my heart tremble at him, while " 
I was in his presence." 

He was now tempted to seek relief by em- 
bracing infidelity, if not atheism ; the tempter 
suggesting, that even if there should be a future 
state and a day of judgment, yet by believing 
the contrary he could lose nothing, and would 
at least attain present ease ; and as he must 
perish at last, it was not worth while to tor- 
ment himself beforehand. But whenever these 
thouo-hts entered his mind, he would have at 
the same time such a realizing sense of death 
and the judgment, that both appeared, as it were, 
in his view — within a step — as vhough they 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 89 

were come already, and the Judge standing at 
the door ; so that this temptation received no 
entertainment. 

He found it hard work, however, to pray to 
God, because despair was swallowing him up. 
" I thought," he says, " I was, as with a tem- 
pest, driven away from God ; for always when 
I cried for mercy this would come in, ' 'Tis too 
late — I am lost — God hath let me fall — my sin 
is unpardonable.' " 

About this time he met with the narrative of 
the awful death of Francis Spira, the reading 
of which, he says, " was to his troubled spirit 
as salt ruhhed into a fresh wound.'''' One ex- 
pression of the dying apostate was especially 
fearful to him : " Man knows the beginning of 
sin, but who bounds the issues thereof ?" 

The text, " He hath received gifts for the 
rebellious," (Psa. Ixiii, 18,) would sometimes 
come into his mind. " The rebellious," thought 
he, " why they are such as have taken up arms 
against their prince after they have once sworn 
subjection to his government ; and this is my 
very condition ; I once loved him, feared him, 
served him ; but now I am a rebel ; I have sold 
him ; I have said, ' Let him go if he will :' but 
yet he hath gifts for rebels ; and then why not 
for me V But when he attempted to take "some 



90 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

small refreshment" from this text, he " missed 
of his desire," and was " driven with force be- 
yond it ;" he was, he says, like a man hurried 
to execution, past some place " where he would 
fain creep in and hide himself, but may not." 

Bunyan had already compared his offence 
with those of the ancient saints, and concluded 
that his outweighed any of theirs. He now 
began to view the matter over again, and set it 
in this light, — What if I should put all theirs 
together, and mine alone against them, might I 
not then find encouragement ? He conceived 
that if his sin, though bigger than any one of 
theirs, should be but equal to all, there might 
still be hope in his case ; seeing that the blood 
which atoned for the whole of theirs had virtue 
enough to atone for his one, although it should 
be as large as all theirs put together. Hence 
he says, " Here again I should consider the sin 
of David, and Solomon, and the rest of the great 
offenders ; and should also labour, what I might 
with fairness, to aggravate and heighten their 
sins by several circumstances. I should think 
with myself that David shed blood to cover his 
adultery, and that by the sword of the children 
of Ammon ; a work that could not be done but 
by contrivance, which was a great aggravation 
to his sin. . . . Then I thought on Solomon, and 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 91 

how he sinned in loving strange women, in fall- 
ing away to their idols, in building them tem- 
ples, in doing this after light in his old age, after 
mercy received. ... I would then add to these 
men's sins the sins of Manasseh ; how that he 
built altars for idols in the house of the Lord ; 
he also observed times, used enchantments, 
burned his children in the fire, in sacrifice to 
devils, and made the streets of Jerusalem to run 
down with the blood of innocents. These, 
thought I, are great sins, sins of a bloody co- 
lour. . . . But then would this turn upon me, — 
' Ah ! but these were but sins against the law^ 
from which there was a Jesus sent to save 
them : but yours is a sin against the Saviour, 
and who shall save you from that V 

" This one consideration would always kill 
my heart, — my sin was point blank against my 
Saviour ; and that too at that height that I had 
in my heart said of him, ' Let him go if he will.' 
O ! methought this sin was bigger than the sins 
of a country, of a kingdom, or of the whole 
world; no one unpardonable, nor all of them 
together was able to make mine ; mine outwent 
them every one. 

" Now I should find my mind to flee from 
God as from the face of a dreadful judge ; yet 
this was my torment, I could not escape his 



92 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

hand : ' It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands 
of the living God.' But, blessed be his grace, 
that scripture, in these flying fits, would call, as 
running after me, ' I have blotted out, as a thick 
cloud, thy transgressions, and as a cloud thy 
sins ; return unto me, for I have redeemed thee.' 
This, I say, vi^ould come in upon ray mind when 
I was fleeing from the face of God ; for I did 
flee from his face, that is, my mind and spirit 
fled before him : then would the text cry, ' Re- 
turn unto me ;' it would cry aloud with a very 
great voice, ' Return unto me, for I have re- 
deemed thee,' Isa. xliv, 22. Indeed, this would 
make me a little stop, and, as it were, look over 
my shoulder behind me, to see if I could discern 
that the grace of God did follow me with a par- 
don in his hand ; but I could no sooner do that, 
but all would be clouded and darkened again by 
that sentence, ' For you know, how that after- 
ward, when he would have inherited the bless- 
ing, he was rejected ; for he found no place of 
repentance, though he sought it carefully with 
tears.' Wherefore I could not refrain, but fled, 
though at sometime it cried, ' Return, return,' 
as if it did halloo after me : but I feared to close 
in therewith, lest it should not come from God; 
for that other, [about Esau,] as I said, was 
sounding in my conscience." 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 93 



CHAPTER V. 

bunyan's religious experience : spiritual 
conflicts: deliverance: remarks. 

The remarkable relation which follows appear- 
ed to Bunyan himself, accustomed as he was 
to preternatural impressions, so extraordinary 
and unaccountable in its character, that when 
he wrote his narrative, many years after, he 
hesitated to include it, and actually withheld it 
from the first edition. We give it entire, in his 
own words : — " Once as I was walking to and 
fro in a good man's shop, bemoaning of myself 
in a sad and doleful state, afflicting myself with 
self-abhorrence for this wicked and ungodly 
thought ; lamenting also this hard hap of mine, 
for that I should commit so great a sin, greatly 
fearing that I should not be pardoned ; praying 
also in my heart, that if this sin of mine did 
differ from that against the Holy Ghost, the 
Lord would shew it me ; and being now ready 
to sink with fear, suddenly there was, as if there 
had rushed in at the window, the noise of wind 
upon me, but very pleasant, and as if I heard 
a voice speaking, ' Didst thou ever refuse to be 
justified by the blood of Christ ? ' And withal. 



94 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

my whole life of profession past was in a mo- 
ment opened to me, wherein I was made to see, 
that designedly I had not : so my heart answer- 
ed groaningly, * No.' Then fell with power 
that word upon me, 'See that ye refuse not him 
that speaketh,' Heb. xii, 25. This made a 
strange seizure upon my spirit ; it brought light 
with it, and commanded a silence in my heart, 
of all those tumultuous thoughts that did before 
use, like masterless hell-hounds, to roar and 
bellow, and make an hideous noise within me. 
It shewed me also that Jesus Christ had yet a 
word of grace and mercy for me ; that he had 
not, as I had feared, quite forsaken and cast off 
my soul ; yea, this was a kind of check for my 
proneness to desperation ; a kind of threatening 
of me, if I did not, notwithstanding my sins, 
and the heinousness of them, venture my salva- 
tion upon the Son of God. But as to my de- 
termining about this strange dispensation, what 
it was I know not ; or from whence it came I 
know not ; I have not yet in twenty years' time 
been able to make a judgment of it. I thought 
then what here I should be loath to speak. 
But verily that sudden rushing wind was as if 
an angel had come upon me ; but both it and 
the salvation I will leave until the day of judg- 
ment : only this I say, it commanded a great 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 95 

calm in my soul ; it persuaded me there might 
be hope ; it shewed me, as I thought, what the 
sin unpardonable was, and that my soul had yet 
the blessed privilege to flee to Jesus Christ for 
mercy. But I say, concerning this dispensa- 
tion, I know not what to say unto it yet ; which 
was also, in truth, the cause that at first I did 
not speak of it in the book ; I do now also leave 
it to be thought on by men of sound judgment. 
I lay not the stress of my salvation thereupon, 
but upon the Lord Jesus in the promise ; yet 
seeing I am here unfolding my secret things, I 
thought it might not be altogether inexpedient 
to let this also shew itself, though I cannot now 
relate the matter as there I did experience it." 
But the struggle was not yet over. The 
"savour" of this "strange dispensation," as he 
calls it, lasted only about three or four days, and 
then he began to mistrust, and despair again. 
" Wherefore," he says, " my life still hung in 
doubt before me, not knowing which way I 
should tip ; only this I found my soul desire, 
even to cast itself at the foot of grace, by prayer 
and supplication. But ! it was hard for me 
now to have the face to pray to this Christ for 
mercy, against whom I had thus vilely sinned ; 
. . . and indeed I have found it as difficult to come 
to God by prayer, after backsliding from him, 



96 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

as to do any other thing. . . . But I saw that 
there was but one way with me ; I must go to 
him, and humble myself unto him, and beg that 
he, of his wonderful mercy, would shew pity to 
me, and have mercy on my wretched, sinful soul." 
But here the adversary strongly suggested, that 
prayer would not avail in his case, seeing he had 
rejected the Mediator, without whom no prayers 
came to God with acceptance ; therefore if he 
prayed now he would only add sin to sin, and 
offend the Lord more than he had ever done 
before. For God, urged the tempter, hath been 
weary of you these several years already, be- 
cause you are none of his : your bawling in his 
ears hath been no pleasant voice to him ; and 
therefore he let you sin this sin, that you might 
be quite cut off ; and will you pray still ? " This," 
says Bunyan, " the devil urged, and set forth 
that in Numbers xiv, where Moses said to the 
children of Israel, that because they would not 
go up to possess the land when God would have 
them, therefore for ever he did bar them out 
from thence, though they prayed they might 
with tears. It is said in another place, ' The 
man that sins presumptuously shall be taken 
from God's altar, that he may die,' (Exod. xxi, 
14,) even as Joab was by King Solomon, when he 
thought to find shelter there. These places did 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 97 

pinch me very sore ; yet my case being despe- 
rate, I thought with myself, I can but die ; and 
if it must be so, it shall oiice be said, ' That such 
an one died at the foot of Christ in prayer.' 
This I did, but with great difficulty, God doth 
know ; and that because, together with this, 
still that saying about Esau would be set at my 
heart, even like ' a flaming sword,' to ' keep the 
way of the tree of life,' lest I should take there- 
of and live. O ! who knows how hard a thing 
I found it to come to God in prayer ! 

" I did also desire the prayers of the people 
of God for me ; but I feared that God would 
give them no heart to do it ; yea, I trembled in 
my soul to think, that some or other of them 
would shortly tell me that God had said those 
words to them, that he once did say to the pro- 
phet, concerning the children of Israel, ' Pray 
not for this people, for I have rejected them,' 
Jer. xi, 4. So, ' Pray not for him, for I have 
rejected him,' 1 Sam. xvi, 1. Yea, I thought 
that he had whispered this to some of them 
already, only they durst not tell me so ; neither 
durst I ask them of it, for fear if it should be so 
it would make me quite beside myself." 

About this time he opened his mind to an 
" ancient Christian," from whom, however, he 

received but cold consolation ; for when he had 

7 



98 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAX. 

told him his case, and that he feared he had 
committed the unpardonable sin, his friend re- 
plied, that " Ae thought so too!'''' Happily his 
opinion seems to have had but little weight 
with Bunyan, who comforted himself on find- 
ing, by further conversation with him, that, 
though a good man, he was "a stranger to 
much combat with the devil." He therefore 
betook himself again to prayer, as well as he 
could, but in such a state of mind that the most 
full and gracious promises of the gospel were 
his greatest torment. " Yea," he says, " no- 
thing so afflicted me as the thought of Jesus 
Christ ; the remembrance of my Saviour (be- 
cause I had cast him off) brought the villany 
of my sin, and my loss by it, to mind. Nothing 
did twinge my conscience like this. Every- 
thing that I thought of the Lord Jesus, of his 
grace, love, goodness, kindness, gentleness, 
meekness, death, promises, blessed exhortations, 
comforts, and consolations, it went to my soul 
like a sword ; for still unto these my consider- 
ations of the Lord Jesus, these thoughts would 
make place for themselves in my heart, — ' Ah, 
this is the Jesus, the loving Saviour, the Son 
of God, whom you have parted with, whom you 
have slighted, despised, and abused.' . . . O! 
thought I, what have I lost ; what have I parted 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 99 

with ! What has disinherited my poor soul ! . . . 
I could not bear to think of the ' wrath of the 
Lamb,' in that great day of his wrath, when no 
rebels to his authority will be able to stand. I 
also trembled, as I have said, at the sight of the 
saints of God ; ... for they did, both in their 
words, their carriage, and all their expressions 
of tenderness and fear to sin against their pre- 
cious Saviour, condemn, and also add continual 
affliction and shame unto my soul. The dread 
of them was upon me, and 1 trembled at God's 
Samuels. 1 Sam. xvi, 4. 

" Now also the tempter began afresh to mock 
my soul another way, saying, ' That Christ in- 
deed did pity my case, and was very sorry for 
my loss ; but forasmuch as I had sinned and 
transgressed as I had done, he could by no 
means help me, nor save me from what I fear- 
ed : for my sin was not of the nature of theirs 
for whom he bled and died ; neither was it 
counted with those that were laid to his charge, 
when he hanged on a tree : therefore, unless he 
should come down from heaven, and die anew 
for this sin, (though indeed he did greatly pity 
me,) yet I could have no benefit of him.' These 
things may seem ridiculous to others, even as 
ridiculous as they were in themselves, but to 
me they were most tormenting cogitations : 



100 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

every one of them augmented my misery, that 
Jesus Christ should have so much love as to 
pity me, when yet he could not help me too : 
nor did I think that the reason why he could 
not help me was, because his merits were weak, 
or his grace and salvation spent on others al- 
ready, but because his faithfulness to his threat- 
enings would not let him extend his mercy to 
me. Besides, I thought, as I have already 
hinted, that my sin was not within the bounds 
of that pardon that was wrapped up in a pro- 
mise ; and if not, then I knew surely that it was 
more easy for heaven and earth to pass away, 
than for me to have eternal life. . . . But O ! 
how this would add to my affliction, to conceit 
that I should be guilty of such a sin for which 
he did not die ! These thoughts did so confound 
me, and imprison me, and tie me up from faith, 
that I knew not what to do. O, thought I, that 
he would come down again ! O that the work 
of man's redemption was yet to be done by 
Christ ! how would I pray him, and entreat him 
to count and reckon this sin among the rest for 
which he died ! But this scripture would strike 
me down as dead, ' Christ being raised from 
the dead, dieth no more : death hath no more 
dominion over him,' Rom. vi, 9. 

" Thus I was always sinking, whatever I 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 101 

did think or do. So one day I walked to a 
neighbouring town, and sat down upon a settle 
in the street, and fell into a very deep pause 
about the most fearful state my sin had brought 
me to ; and after long musing, I lifted up my 
head, but methought I saw, as if the sun that 
shineth in the heavens did grudge to give light ; 
and as if the stones in the streets, and the tiles 
upon the houses, did bend themselves against 
me. Methought that they all combined together 
to banish me out of the world. . . . O how hap- 
py now was every creature to what I was ! for 
they stood fast, and kept their station, but I 
was gone and lost. Then breaking out in the 
bitterness of my soul, I said to my soul, ' How 
can God comfort such a wretch as I am 1 ' I had 
no sooner said it, but this returned upon me, as 
an echo doth answer a voice, ' This sin is not 
unto death,' at which I was as if I had been 
raised out of the grave, and cried out again, 
' Lord, how couldst thou find out such a word as 
this ? ' for I was filled with admiration at the 
fitness, and at the unexpectedness of the sen- 
tence. ... I was now, for the time, out of doubt 
as to that about which I was so much in doubt 
before. . . . Now, thought I, if this sin is not 
unto death, then it is pardonable ; therefore from 
this I have encouragement to come to God by 



102 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

Christ for mercy. . . . None but those that know 
(by their own experience) what my trouble was, 
can tell what relief came to my soul by this 
consideration : it was a release to me from my 
former bonds, and a shelter from my former 
storms. I seemed now to stand upon the same 
ground with other sinners, and to have as good 
right to the word and prayer as any of them. 

" But O ! how Satan did now lay about him 
for to bring me down again ! But he could by 
no means do it, neither this day, nor the most 
part of the next ; for this sentence stood like a 
mill-post at my back. Yet toward the evening 
of the next day I felt this word begin to leave 
me, and to withdraw its supportation from me, 
and so I returned to my old fears again, but with 
a great deal of grudging and peevishness ; for I 
feared the sorrow of despair. 

" But the next day at evening, being under 
many fears, I went to seek the Lord ; and as I 
prayed my soul cried to him in these words, 
with strong cries, ' O Lord, I beseech thee, 
shew me that thou hast loved me with an ever- 
lasting love !' I had no sooner said it, but with 
sweetness this returned upon me, as an echo, 
' I have loved thee with an everlasting love.' 
Now I went to bed in quiet ; also when I 
awaked the next morning it was fresh upon my 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 103 

soul, and I believed it. ... I had also, for se- 
veral days together, very much sweetness, and 
comfortable hopes of pardon." 

But before many weeks had elapsed he be- 
gan to despond again, fearing lest after all he 
might be deceived, and meet with a disappoint- 
ment at last ; for the old text about Esau was 
again brought to his mind, and also some other 
similar passages, which he thought effectually 
cut him off from all hopes of mercy. " Now," 
he says, "was the word of the gospel forced 
from my soul. ... I felt myself to sink into a 
gulf, as an house whose foundation is destroyed : 
I did liken myself in this condition unto the case 
of a child that was fallen into a mill-pit, who, 
though it could make some shifts to scramble 
and sprawl in the water, yet because it could 
find hold neither for hand nor foot, therefore at 
last it must die in that condition. . . . But while 
these scriptures lay before me, and laid sin 
anew at my door, that saying, ' And he spake a 
parable to them, to this end, that men ought 
always to pray and not to faint,' with others, did 
encourage me to prayer. Then the tempter 
again laid at me very sore, suggesting, ' that 
neither the mercy of God, nor yet the blood of 
Christ, did at all concern me, nor could they 
help me for my sin ; therefore it was in vain to 



104 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAK. 

pray.' Yet thought I, ' / will -pray^ ' But/ 
said the tempter, 'your sin is unpardonable.' 
' Well,' said I, ' / will pray.^ ' It is to no boot,' 
said he. ' Yet,' said I, '/ will pray /' So I went 
to prayer to God ; and while I was at prayer, I 
uttered words to this effect, — ' Lord, Satan tells 
me that neither thy mercy, nor Christ's blood, is 
sufficient to save my soul. Lord, shall I hon- 
our thee most, by believing thou wilt and canst? 
or him, by believing thou neither wilt nor canst ? 
Lord, I would fain honour thee, by believing 
thou wilt and canst.' And as I was thus before 
the Lord, that scripture fastened on my heart, 
* O man, great is thy faith,' even as if one had 
clapped me on the back, as I was on my knees 
before God : yet I was not able to believe that 
this was a prayer of faith, till almost six months 
after ; for I could not think that I had faith, or 
that there should be a word for me to act faith 
on ; therefore I should still be as sticking in 
the jaws of desperation, and went mourning up 
and down in a sad condition. 

" At another time, I remember, I was again 
much under this question, ' Whether the blood 
of Christ was sufficient to save my soul ? ' in 
which doubt I continued from morning till about 
seven or eight at night : and at last, when I was, 
as it were, quite worn out with fear, these words 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 105 

did sound suddenly within my heart, ' He is 
able,' Heb. vii, 25. But methought this word 
* able ' was spoke loud unto me ; it shewed a 
great word, it seemed to be writ in large letters, 
and gave such a jostle to my fear and doubt (I 
mean for the time it tarried with me, which was 
about a day) as I never had from that time, all 
my life, either before or after." 

One morning, after this, while he was again 
at prayer, trembling under the fear that no word 
of God could help him, this ^^ piece of a sentence 
darted in'''' upon him, " My grace is sufficient," 
1 Cor. xii, 9. About a fortnight before he had 
looked at that very text, but thinking it could 
afford no comfort to his soul, had " thrown down 
the book in a pet." Then he thought it was not 
large enough for him ; but now it was as if it 
had arms of grace so wide that it could enclose 
not only him, but many more besides. By this 
text (or rather part of a text) he was sustained 
for seven or eight weeks, yet not without many 
conflicts ; for his peace " would be in and out 
twenty times a day ; comfort now, and trouble 
presently." This text about the sufficiency of 
grace, and that about Esau's parting with his 
birthright, would be "like a pair of scales in 
his mind ; sometimes one would be uppermost, 
sometimes the other ; according to which would 



106 MFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

be his peace or troubles." He therefore prayed 
to God that he would help him to apply the 
whole sentence, which as yet he was not him- 
self able to do. " That He gave," says Bun- 
yan, " that I gathered ; but further I could not 
go, for as yet it only helped me to believe there 
might be mercy for me. ' My grace is suffi- 
cient,' answered my former question ; to wit, 
that there was hope; yet because 'for thee^ 
was left out, I was not contented, but prayed to 
God for that also. Wherefore, one day, as I 
was in a meeting of God's people, full of sad- 
ness and terror, for my fears again were strong 
upon me, these words did with great power 
suddenly break in upon me, ' My grace is suffi- 
cient for thee ; my grace is sufficient for thee ; 
my grace is sufficient for thee,' three times to- 
gether. And ! methought every word was a 
mighty word unto me, as my, and grace, and 
SUFFICIENT, and FOR THEE ; they were then, 
and sometimes are still, far higger than others 
be. ... I was as though I had seen the Lord 
Jesus look down from heaven through the tiles 
upon me, and direct these words unto me. This 
sent me mourning home ; it broke my heart, 
and filled me full of joy, and laid me low in the 
dust ; only it stayed not long with me, — I mean 
in this glory and refreshing comfort ; yet it 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN, 107 

continued with me for several weeks, and did 
encourage me to hope. But as soon as that 
powerful operation of it was taken from my 
heart, that other about Esau returned upon me 
as before : so my soul did hang as in a pair of 
scales again, sometimes up, and sometimes 
down ; now in peace, and anon again in terror. 
" I remember one day, as I was in divers 
frames of spirit, and considering that these 
frames were according to the nature of the se- 
veral scriptures that came in upon my mind ; 
if this of grace, then was I quiet ; but if that of 
Esau, then tormented. Lord, thought I, if both 
these scriptures should meet in my heart at once, 
I wonder which of them would get the better of 
me. So methought I had a longing mind that 
they might both come together upon me ; yea, 
I desired of God they might. Well, about two 
or three days after, so they did indeed ; they 
bolted both upon me at a time, and did work and 
struggle strongly in me for awhile. At last that 
about Esau's birthright began to wax weak, and 
withdraw, and vanish ; and this, about the suf- 
ficiency of grace, prevailed with peace and joy. 
And as I was in a muse about this thing, that 
scripture came in upon me, ' Mercy rejoiceth 
against judgment,' James ii, 13. This was a 
wonderment to me ; yet truly, I am apt to think 



108 . LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

it was of God ; for the word of the law and 
wrath must give place to the word of life and 
grace ; because, though the word of condemna- 
tion be glorious, yet the word of life and salva- 
tion doth far exceed in glory. 2 Cor. iii, 7-9. 

" This scripture did also most sweetly visit 
my soul, 'And him that cometh unto me I will 
in no wise cast out,' John vi, 37. the com- 
fort that I had from this word, 'm no wise .''... 
But Satan would greatly labour to pull this pro- 
mise from me, telling of me, ' That Christ did 
not mean me, and such as I, but sinners of a 
lower rank, that had not done as I had done !' 
But I would answer him again, ' Satan, here is 
in these words no such exception ; but him that 
comes — him — any him ; him that cometh to me 
I will in no wise cast out.' ... If ever Satan 
and I did strive for any word of God in all my 
life, it was for this good word of Christ ; he at 
one end and I at the other. O, what work we 
made ! It was for this in John, I say, that we 
did so tug and strive ; he pulled and I pulled ; 
but God be praised, I overcame him ; I got 
sweetness from it." 

Being now in a great measure delivered from 
the temptation which had so long weighed down 
his spirit, Bunyan set himself to consider more 
clearly the character of his offence, and care- 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 109 

fully to " weigh the scope and tendency " of 
those ''most fearful and terrible scriptures" with 
which he had been " so greatly affrighted, yea, 
had had much ado a hundred times to forbear 
wishing out of the Bible." The conclusion he 
came to was, that as his sin had not been com- 
mitted deliberately, nor yet consented to at the 
time, he was not cut off from mercy by the pas- 
sages that had so greatly alarmed him, but which, 
on a closer examination, he found did not " look 
so grimly " as they had formerly done. 

" And now," he says, " remained only the 
hinder part of the tempest ; for the thunder was 
gone beyond me ; only some drops did still 
remain, that now and then would fall upon me : 
but because my former frights and anguish were 
very sore and deep, therefore it oft befell me 
still, as it befalleth those that have been scared 
with fire ; — I thought every voice was ' Fire ! 
fire ! ' Every little touch would hurt my ten- 
der conscience." 

But one day, as he was walking in the field, 
having still some dashes on his conscience, fear- 
ing lest all was not yet right, suddenly this sen- 
tence occurred to him, " Thy righteousness is 
in heaven ;" and " methought," he says, " I saw 
with the eyes of my soul Jesus Christ at God's 
right hand — there, I say, as my righteousness — 



110 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

for my righteousness was Christ himself, ' the 
same yesterday, to-day, and for ever.' Now did 
my chains fall off my legs indeed ; I was loosed 
from my afflictions and irons ; my temptations 
also fled away ; so that from that time those 
dreadful scriptures of God left off" to trouble me. 
Now went I also home rejoicing, for the grace 
and love of God ; so when I came home I 
looked to see if I could find that sentence, ' Thy 
righteousness is in heaven,' but could not find 
such a saying, (in the Bible,) wherefore my 
heart began to sink again, only that was brought 
to my remembrance, ' He is made unto us of 
God, wisdom, righteousness, sanctification, and 
redemption,' 1 Cor. i, 30 ; by this word I saw 
the other sentence true." 

Having finished his relation of the " sorrow 
and affliction" which for more than two years 
he had endured by reason of the " guilt and ter- 
ror" which this temptation had laid him under ; 
and also given an account of his deliverance 
therefrom, the "sweet and blessed comfort" of 
which abode with him for almost a twelvemonth 
to his " unspeakable admiration," he next pro- 
ceeds to state what he considered to have been 
the causes of his falling under this temptation. 
These causes he conceives to have been the 
following : First, that he did not, when deli- 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. Ill 

vered from his former temptation, pray that he 
might be kept from future ones. He " prayed 
only," he tells us, "or at the most principally, 
for the removal of present troubles," and neg- 
lected to pray that God would " keep him from 
tlje evil that was to come ;" according to what 
is written, " Pray that ye enter not into tempta- 
tion," Luke xxii, 40. The other reason he as- 
signs was, that on one occasion, when doubt 
and unbelief assailed him, he had tempted God 
by asking of him a sign whereby he might be 
assured that the secret thoughts of the heart 
were known to him. This, he tells us, was 
about a year and a half before that extraordina- 
ry temptation fell upon him. , 

It would thus appear that he regarded the 
*'iiery trial" with which he was tried as being 
either a natural consequence of an omission of 
duty, or a judicial visitation for what he con- 
ceived to be a sin of presumption ; but we sus- 
pect that few of our readers will consider either 
or both the causes he assigns as sufficiently 
accounting for that wilderness of temptation in 
which he so long wandered, and his passage 
through which was not less terrible than that 
of his own Pilgrim through the Valley of the 
Shadow of Death. 

Many circumstances, in addition to those we 



112 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

have already mentioned, (pp. 52-56,) doubtless 
concurred to occasion and aggravate Bunyan's 
religious terrors. Not the least of these was 
the want of some suitable mental occupation. 
Having just emerged from the grossness and 
vulgarity in which he had wasted his earlier 
years, his strong and active mind was rapidly 
developing itself, and he now needed some other 
kind of employment besides that of " tinkering" 
— something that would have enlisted his feel- 
ings and required the exercise of his thoughts : 
for the want of this his mind, having nothing 
else on which to operate, naturally began to 
prey upon itself, and his thoughts were contin- 
ually fixed on his spiritual state, A strong im- 
agination thus working upon a tender and not 
very enlightened conscience, could scarcely 
fail, in an individual holding the opinions which 
Bunyan did, and circumstanced as he was, to 
sink him to the deepest despondency. " He 
wanted something to do that would have ex- 
pended the surplus energies of his mind, or 
compelled him to think of others as well as of 
himself. Had Gifford set him to teach the poor 
children of Elstow to read the Bible, on the 
sabbath evenings or mornings, as well as set 
him to the study of his own heart and experi- 
ence, Bunyan would have plunged into the work, 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 113 

and thus lost sight of himself for the time in the 
pleasure of doing good. When he began to 
preach and write for the benefit of others, he 
soon got over his personal fears." — Philip. 

The desultory manner in which he had read 
the Scriptures was also far from being calcu- 
lated to settle the mind of a person harassed 
with doubts and fears, and possessing but little 
experience in spiritual things. Fixing his mind 
on detached sentences, without properly regard- 
ing the connection in which they stood, he was 
often cast down and almost in despair by the 
misapplication of texts which had no bearing on 
his case, as he afterward found when he set 
himself calmly and diligently to consider their 
" scope and tendency." 

Something must also be attributed to the 
character of the times in which he lived. The 
wildest opinions of every kind were abroad in 
the land, especially on the subject of religion ; 
the most strange and fanatical doctrines were 
industriously propagated, with "every wind" of 
which the ignorant and unstable were in danger 
of being " carried away." Bunyan, it is true, 
was mercifully preserved from embracing these 
errors, yet, being continually presented to his 
notice, they could not fail to add to the per- 
plexity of a mind exercised as his then was. 

8 



114 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

But the question will naturally arise, How far 
may Bunyan's temptations be attributed to the 
immediate agency of the evil one, to which he 
was accustomed, to the close of his life, to as- 
cribe them ? There are some who ridicule the 
idea of Satan's exercising any direct influence 
upon the human mind, while others, running 
into the opposite extreme, refer to his immediate 
operation every temptation and evil suggestion 
with which the mind is assailed, thus clothing 
him almost with the attribute of omnipresence. 
The doctrine of the existence and agency of evil 
spirits is too plainly revealed in Scripture to 
allow any Christian to doubt ; but it will often 
be difficult to determine when a man is " tempt- 
ed of the devil," and when he is " drawn away 
of his own lust and enticed." There are, how- 
ever, observes Mr. Philip, " cases in which it 
may safely be said, as in the case of sowing 
tares, ' an enemy hath done this.' . . . When 
blasphemies which are abhorrent to the mind, 
and which can be traced to no blasphemous 
book nor bad example, are yet rushing to the 
lips, and raging in the thoughts, and maddening 
the imagination, although the victim of them 
would give worlds to get rid of them, they may 
be safely ascribed to Satanic suggestion. Christ 
says, indeed, that blasphemies proceed out of 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 115 

the heart ; but he does not say that they do so 
against the will, nor in spite of the prayer and 
effort of the heart to suppress and forget them. 
In such a case they are most likely what old 
Ambrose calls them, ' rather fire-balls thrown 
into a house, than flames from its own hearth.' " 

Bunyan gives a much more satisfactory ac- 
count of the advantages he derived from the 
severe conflict through which he had just pass- 
ed, than of the causes which led to it. Before 
this he had often been assaulted with "unbe- 
lief, and questions about the being of God, the 
truth of the word, and the certainty of the world 
to come ; " but now these atheistical doubts 
ceased to molest him. 

The agonizing distress he had suffered from 
the application of certain texts which he sup- 
posed to place him beyond the reach of mercy, 
and the strong consolation he received when 
he was enabled to lay hold by faith on some 
Scripture promise, gave him such a sense of the 
power and verity of the word of God, as he had 
never before experienced. The Scriptures, he 
tells us, were " wonderful things unto him ;" 
one sentence, that seemed to set itself against 
him, would " more afflict and terrify his mind 
than an army of forty thousand men that might 
come against him." 



116 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

He was also led to see more into the nature 
of the promises than before ; for this temptation 
had made him " with careful heart, and watch- 
ful eye, with great fearfulness to turn over every 
leaf; and with much diligence, mixed with 
trembling, to consider every sentence, together 
with its natural force and latitude." Before 
this, if he did not feel comfort as soon as a pro- 
mise presented itself to his mind, he put it by 
as not meant for him ; " but now," he says, " it 
was no time thus to do; the 'avenger of blood' 
did too hardly pursue me. Therefore I was 
glad to catch at that word, which yet I feared I 
had no ground or right to own ; and even to leap 
into the bosom of that promise that yet I feared 
did shut its heart against me. Now also I would 
labour to take the word as God hath laid it down, 
without restraining the natural force of one syl- 
lable thereof;" considering "that God had a 
bigger mouth to speak with, than I had a heart 
to conceive with. ... I would in these days, 
often in my greatest agonies, even flounce to- 
ward the promise, as the horses do toward 
sound ground that yet stick in the mire ; con- 
cluding, though as one almost bereft of his wits 
through fear, on this will I rest and stay, and 
leave the fulfilling of it to the God of heaven 
that made it." 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 117 



CHAPTER VI. 

BUNYAN JOINS THE BAPTIST CHURCH AT BED- 
FORD : HE BEGINS TO PREACH. 

After Bunyan had thus been taken out of the 
horrible pit and miry clay of despair, he united 
himself with the Baptist Church at Bedford, un- 
der the pastoral care of Mr. GifTord. This was 
in 1655,* when he was about* twenty-seven 
years of age. We have already stated, although 
this was professedly a Baptist Church, they did 
not make adult baptism a term of membership, 
nor consider a difference of sentiment on that 
subject a bar to communion at the Lord's table. 
The only condition required of those who wish- 
ed to join them was, a profession of faith in 
Christ, attended with holiness of life ; conse- 
quently there were many. Pedobaptists among 
them. A majority of the members, however, 

* Mr. Philip says in 1653 ; but this is evidently an 
error. He takes that date from Ivimey, who gives, as 
his authority, the Life of Bunyan prefixed to Heptinstall's 
edition of the Pilgrim's Progress ; but on referring to that 
Life I find that the date given there is 1655. Scott gives 
the same date, as does also an old Memoir prefixed to 
some editions of the Pilgrim, and written by one who 
was a contemporary of Bunyan, and acquainted with him. 



118 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

were Baptists, as was Bunyan himself, who, 
though he mentions not the fact in his narrative, 
was admitted by baptism, the ceremony being 
probably performed in the River Ouse. The 
only account he gives of his reception is the 
following : — " I propounded to the church, that 
my desire was to walk in the order and ordi- 
nances of Christ with them, and was also ad- 
mitted by them." * 

Bunyan's conversion exerted an influence for 
good on sbme of those who had been his com- 
panions in sin. He tells us that he had " in- 
fected all the youth of the town where he was 
born with all manner of youthful vanities ; " but 
on his reformation, he says, " the contagion was 
much allayed all the town over. When God 
made me sigh, they would hearken, and inqui- 
ringly say, ' What is the matter with John ? ' . . . 
When I went out to seek the bread of life, some 
of them would follow, and the rest be put into a 
muse at home. Yea, almost the town, at first, 
at times, would go out to hear at the place where 
I found good ; yea, young and old for awhile 

* This church has ever since continued to be governed 
by the same liberal and Christian principles as those on 
which it w^as first organized. At the present day, how- 
ever, a majority of the members, as well as the pastor, 
(the Rev. Samuel JHillyard,) are said to be Pedobaptists, 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 119 

had some reformation on them : also some of 
them, perceiving that God had mercy upon me, 
came crying to him for mercy too." 

When he first began to communicate with 
his brethren in the sacrament of the Lord's sup- 
per, these words of our Saviour, " Do this in 
remembrance of me," were very "precious" to 
him ; " for by them," he says, " the Lord did 
come down upon my conscience with the disco- 
very of his death for my sins ; and as I then 
felt, did as if he plunged me in the virtue of the 
same."* But he had not been long a partaker 
of this ordinance before he was assailed therein 
with fierce temptations "both to blaspheme the 
ordinance, and to wish some deadly thing to 
those that did then eat thereof;" so that he 
found it needful " to bend himself all the while 
to pray to God, lest he should at any time be 
guilty of consenting to these wicked and fearful 
thoughts." The cause of his being harassed, 
when at the sacrament, with these temptations, 
which he continued to be for about nine months, 
he afterward thought was, because he did not 
at the first approach with becoming reverence 
to partake thereof. 

* There seems to me in this passage an intended use 
of terms which should express the views of both classes 
in his church on the mode of baptism. — Philip. 



I 



120 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

No one who has read the previous part of this 
narrative vi^ill be surprised to hear that Bun- 
yan's health was at this time in such a state 
that he was thought to be in a consumption. 
Indeed, " the only wonder," as Mr. Philip re- 
marks, " is, that this did not occur sooner : for 
as Bunyan was highly nervous, as well as sen- 
sitive, his health was as much endangered as 
his spirits," by his long-continued mental ex- 
citement and suffering. " Even his happy mo- 
ments were perilous to health ; and will remind 
some readers of the emphatic lines of a Scotch 

poet, — 

' O ! hold my head ! 
This gush o' pleasure *s like to be my dead* 

He had indeed an iron frame ; and he needed 
it, for he had a soul of fire. The latter, how- 
ever, overheated the former at last, and for a time 
seemed consuming it." 

Being, by a sudden and violent attack, re- 
duced to such extreme weakness that he 
" thought he could not live," he set himself, 
according to his " usual course in the day of 
affliction," to examine afresh into his spiritual 
state, and his interest in the life to come. But, 
he tells us, he had no sooner begun to recall to 
his mind his former experience of the goodness 
of God to his soul, than there came flocking into 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 121 

his mind an innumerable company of his sins, 
of which those that gave him most affliction 
were his deadness, dulness, and coldness in his 
holy duties ; his wanderings of heart, his wea- 
riness in all good things, his want of love to 
God, &c. ; and then the inquiry suggested it- 
self, "Are these the fruits of Christianity ? Are 
these the tokens of a blessed man ? " 

Thus for a season did the clouds of despond- 
ency again return and darken his spirit. He 
felt as though he could not live, and yet was not 
fit to die. But one day, as he was pacing to 
and fro in his house, " as a man in a most woful 
state," these words of God " took hold of his 
heart : " — " Ye are justified freely by his grace, 
through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus." 
At this his fear of death was dispelled by an 
assurance of the free mercy of God. He says, 
" what a turn it made upon me ! I was as 
one awakened out of some troublesome sleep 
and dream. . . . Now was I got on high ; I saw 
myself within the arms of grace and mercy ; 
and though I was before afraid to think of a 
dying hour, yet now I cried, ' Let me die ! ' Now 
was death lovely and beautiful in my sight, for 
I saw that we shall never live indeed till we be 
gone to the other world. O, methought, this 
life is but ^^mmber in comparison with that 



122 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAT^. 

above. At this time also I saw more in these 
words, 'Heirs of God,' (Rom. vii, 17,) than ever 
I shall be able to express while I live in this 
world. ^Heirs of God ! ' God himself is the 
portion of the saints. This I saw and wonder- 
ed at ; but cannot tell you what I saw." 

At another time, when he was extremely sick 
and weak, the tempter again grievously assault- 
ed him, labouring to hide from him his former 
experience of God's goodness, and setting before 
him the terrors of death and judgment, insomuch 
that he " was as one dead before death came," 
and felt as though he were already descending 
into the pit. " Methought," he says, " there 
was no way, but to hell I must !" But while he 
was in the midst of these fears, the account of 
Lazarus being carried by angels to Abraham's 
bosom suddenly darted in upon him, as though 
it was said to him, " So shall it be when thou 
dost leave this world." These words of the 
apostle, " O death ! where is thy sting ? O 
grave ! where is thy victory ? " also fell with great 
weight upon his mind. "At this," he says, " I 
became well, both in my body and mind, at once ; 
for my sickness did presently vanish, and I 
walked comfortably in my work for God again." 

Not long after this he was suddenly visited 
with another " great cloud of darkness," which 




LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 123 

SO hid from him the things of God and Christ, 
that it seemed as though he had never seen or 
known them in his life. " I was also," he says, 
" so overrun in my soul with a senseless, heart- 
less frame of spirit, that I could not feel my soul 
to move or stir after grace and life by Christ ; 
I was as if my loins were broken, or as if my 
hands and feet had been tied or bound with 
chains. At this time also I felt some w^eakness 
to seize upon my outward man,* which made 
the other affliction still more heavy and uncom- 
fortable to me, 

" After I had been in this condition some 
three or four days, as I was sitting by the fire, 
I felt this word to sound in my heart, ' I must 
go to Jesus.' At this my darkness fled away, 
and the blessed things of heaven were set in. 
my view." He could not recollect whether the 
words which had thus revived his spirit were to 
be found in the Bible ; he therefore puts the 
question to Mrs. Bunyan ; and from his appeal- 
ing to her for information we may safely infer 
that she, as well as himself, was a diligent 
reader of the sacred volume. " Wife," said he, 
" is there ever such a scripture, ' I must go to 

* We here see again the close, connection there was 
Jjetween Bunyan's visitations of spiritual despondency 
id of physical weakness. 




124 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

Jesus ? ' " She said she could not tell. The 
precise loords, as he quoted them, do not occur ; 
but the idea floating in his mind was drawn from 
Hebrews xii, 22-24. He had not sat above 
two or three minutes before the words, " and to 
an innumerable company of angels," came bolt- 
ing in upon him ; and immediately the whole 
of that sublime passage " about the Mount Sion" 
was set before his eyes. 

" Then," he says, " with joy I told my wife, 
' O ! now I know, I know ! ' That night was a 
good night to me ; I never had but few better. 
I longed for the company of some of God's peo- 
ple, that I might have imparted unto them what 
God had shewed me. Christ was a precious 
Christ to my soul that night. I could scarce 
lie in my bed for joy, and peace, and triumph, 
through Christ. This great glory did not con- 
tinue upon me until morning ; yet the twelfth 
chapter of Hebrews was a blessed scripture to 
me for many days together after this. 

" The words are these : ' Ye are come to 
Mount Sion, to the city of the living God, to the 
heavenly Jerusalem, and to an innumerable com- 
pany of angels, to the general assembly and 
church of the first-born, which are written in 
heaven ; to God the Judge of all, and to the 
spirits of just men made perfect, and to Jesus 





LIFE OF JOHN BUNVAN, 125 

the Mediator of the New Testament, and to the 
blood of sprinkling, that speaketh better things 
than that of Abel.' Through this sentence the 
Lord led me over and over again ; first to this 
word, and then to that ; and shewed me won- 
derful glory in every one of them. These words 
also have oft since that time been a great re- 
freshment to my spirit." 

About five or six years after he was first 
awakened, and but a few months after he had 
formally united with the church, Bunyan was 
earnestly desired by some of the most pious and 
judicious members thereof to take a more pro- 
minent part in their religious exercises, by oc- 
casionally speaking a word of exhortation to 
the people. This, at first, his modesty and a 
feeling of unfitness for the work induced him to 
decline ; but his brethren being convinced, from 
his promptness in prayer, his wonderful ac- 
quaintance with Scripture, and his readiness 
of utterance, that he possessed gifts which 
mfght and ought to be used for the edification 
of the church, continued their entreaties, until 
at length, though with much difiidence, he con- 
sented to their request, " and did twice," he 
tells us, " at two several assemblies, (but in pri- 
vate,) discover his gift among them ; at which 
they not only seemed to be, but did solemnly 



126 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

protest, as in the sight of the great God, they 
were both affected and comforted ; and gave 
thanks to the Father of mercies for the grace 
bestowed on him." 

After this some of his brethren, who were in 
the habit of going into the neighbouring villages 
to teach, occasionally induced him to accom- 
pany them, when he " would sometimes speak a 
word of admonition" to the societies at their 
private meetings. At length, being encouraged 
thereto by a sense of duty, by the approbation 
of those who had heard him, and by the con- 
tinued desires of the church, he was, after so- 
lemn prayer and fasting, " more particularly 
called forth and appointed to a more ordinary 
and public preaching of the word," 

At the same time with Bunyan, seven others 
of the congregation were solemnly set apart to 
the same work, which appears to have been 
similar to that of a " local preacher" among the 
early Methodists ; for we find that Bunyan con- 
tinued in the exercise of his vocation as a tinker 
for some years after this. .His ministerial work 
was doubtless what Southey terms it, " a roving 
commission to itinerate in the villages round 
about ;" and this work occupied so much of his 
time, that when in the ensuing year (1657) he 
was nominated a deacon, the church declined 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 127 

electing him to that office, on the ground that 
he was too much engaged to attend to it.* 

Bunyan entered upon his ministerial labours 
with fear and trembling, and a deep sense of 
his unworthiness ; for he was at that time, he 
tells us, sorely afflicted with doubts concerning 
his spiritual state. The issue, however, proved, 
that his brethren who had first encouraged him 
to the work had not judged wrongly in suppos- 
ing that he was calculated for public and emi- 
nent usefulness. No sooner was it rumoured 
abroad that Bunyan, the profane tinker, had 
turned preacher, than the people flocked by 
hundreds, from all parts round about, to hear 
him. They were drawn together by various 
motives, chiefly perhaps by curiosity ; but one 
feeling only moved the heart of the preacher, 
and that was an earnest, longing desire to " find 
out such a word as might, if God would bless 
it, lay hold of, and awaken the conscience" of 
those who heard him. In this desire he was 
not disappointed, for he had not preached long 
before some of his hearers " began to be touch- 
ed, and greatly afflicted in their minds," under 
a conviction of their sinfulness and their need 
of a Saviour. 

* About this time GifFord died, and was succeeded in 
the pastorship by a preacher named John Burton. 



128 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 






" But at first," says Bunyan, " I could not 
believe that God should speak by me to the 
heart of any man, still counting myself unwor- 
thy : yet those who were thus touched would 
love me, and have a particular respect for me ; 
and though I did put it from me that they should 
be awakened by me, still they would confess 
it, and affirm it before the saints of God. . . 
Wherefore seeing them in both their words 
and deeds to be so constant, and also in their 
hearts so earnestly pressing after the knowledge 
of Jesus Christ, rejoicing that ever God did send 
me where they were ; then I began to conclude 
it might be so, that God had owned in his work 
such a foolish one as I ; and then came that 
word of God to my heart with much sweet re- 
freshment, ' The blessing of them that were rea- 
dy to perish is come upon me ; yea, I caused 
the widow's heart to sing for joy,' Job xxix, 13. 

" At this, therefore, I rejoiced ; yea, the tears 
of those whom God did awaken by my preach- 
ing would be both solace and encouragement to 
me. I thought on these sayings, ' Who is he 
that maketh me glad, but the same that is made 
sorry by me V 2 Cor. ii, 2 : and again, 'Though 
I be not an apostle to others, yet doubtless I am 
unto you : for the seal of my apostleship are ye 
in the Lord,' 1 Cor.ix,2. These things therefore 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 129 

were as another argument unto me that God had 
called me to, and stood by me in this work." 

One instance of his usefulness is too remark- 
able to be omitted. He was to preach in a 
country village in Cambridgeshire; and the 
people being gathered together in the church- 
yard, a Cambridge scholar, and none of the 
soberest of them either, passing that way, in- 
quired what that concourse of people was, it 
being on a week day ; and being told that one 
Bunyan, a tinker, was to preach there, he gave 
a boy two pence to hold his horse, saying, he 
was resolved " to hear the tinker prate ;" and so 
he went into the church and heard him.* But 
God met him there by his word, so that he came 
out much changed, and for a long time he de- 
sired to hear no preacher but the " tinker." He 
became a sincere convert, and was afterward 
himself an eminent minister of the gospel in 
that county. 

The character of Bunyan's preaching took its 
colouring, in a great measure, from his own per- 
sonal hopes and fears. At first his discourses 

* During the protectorate of Oliver Cromwell the pa- 
rish churches were open to evangelical ministers of all 
denominations, and Bunyan sometimes preached in them; 
but notwithstanding his success and popularity as a preach, 
er, he never applied for an appointment to any living. 

9 



130 LIFE OF JOHN BITNYAN. 

were chiefly awakening and alarming ; setting 
forth the curse of God that was upon men, be- 
cause of sin. " This part of my work," he says, 
" I fulfilled with great sense, [feehng,] for the 
terrors of the law, and the guilt of my transgres- 
sions, lay heavy upon my conscience. I preach- 
ed what I felt — what I smartingly did feel — 
even that under which my poor soul did groan 
and tremble to astonishment. Indeed, I have 
been as one sent to them from the dead. I went 
myself in chains, to preach to them in chains ; 
and carried that fire in my own conscience that 
I persuaded them to be aware of. I can truly 
say, and that without dissembling, that when I 
have been to preach, I have gone full of guilt 
and terror even to the pulpit door, and there it 
hath been taken off, and I have been at liberty 
in my mind until I have done my work ; and 
then immediately, even before I could get down 
the pulpit stairs, I have been as bad as I was 
before : yet God carried me on, but surely with 
a strong hand, for neither guilt nor hell could 
take me off my work." 

In this strain he continued to preach, " crying 
out against men's sins, and their fearful state 
because of them," for the space of two years, 
when he happily attained a more joyful state of 
mind, the Lord giving him many sweet disco- 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 131 

veries of his grace through Christ. *' Where- 
fore now," he says, " I altered in niy preach- 
ing, (for still I preached what I saw and felt ;) 
now therefore I did much labour to hold forth 
Jesus Christ in all his offices, relations, and 
benefits to the world, and did strive also to dis- 
cover, condemn, and remove those false sup- 
ports and props on which the world doth lean, 
and by them fall and perish. On these things 
also I stayed as long as on the other." 

But whatever the aspect in which he pre- 
sented the truths of religion to his hearers, he 
was all the time drawn out in earnest prayer to 
God " that he would make the word effectual to 
the salvation of the soul." Frequently, when 
he had concluded the exercises, it went to his 
heart to think that the word had fallen " as rain 
in stony places ;" and he tells us that he often 
said in his heart, before the Lord, " that if to be 
hanged up presently before their eyes would be 
a means to awaken them, and confirm them in 
the truth, I gladly should be contented." 

He was never satisfied unless he saw some 
good effected by his preaching. " If I were 
fruitless," he says, " it mattered not who com- 
mended ; but if I were fruitful, I cared not who 
did condemn." 

So greatly did he rejoice over his spiritual 



132 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

children, that he reckoned himself as possessing 
great treasures in every place where he had 
been instrumental in the conversion of souls. 
On this subject the following passages, with 
others of a like nature, were very refreshing to 
him : — " He that converteth a sinner from the 
error of his way doth save a soul from death," 
James v, 20. " The fruit of the righteous is a 
tree of life ; and he that winneth souls is wise," 
Prov. xi, 30. " They that turn many to right- 
eousness shall shine as the stars for ever and 
ever," Dan. xii, 3. " For what is our hope, our 
joy, or crown of rejoicing ? Are not even ye 
in the presence of our Lord at his coming ? For 
ye are our glory and joy," 1 Thess. ii, 19, 20. 
On the other hand, he tells us, that when any 
of those who had been awakened by his minis- 
try fell back, it grieved him as much as if one 
of his own children had gone to the grave. 
Nothing, except the fear of losing his own soul, 
went so near to him as that. 

In the exercise of his ministry his practice 
was to get into the "darkest" places in the 
neighbourhood ; " not," he says, " because he 
could not endure the light, but because he found 
his spirit lean most after awakening and con- 
verting work," Like St. Paul, too, he preferred 
" to preach the gospel where Christ was not 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 133 

named," lest he should "build upon another 
man's foundation," Rom. xv, 20. 

As regards the subjects on which he dis- 
coursed, he remarks that while he " contended 
with great earnestness for the word of faith, and 
the remission of sins by the death and suffer- 
ings of Jesus," he never cared to meddle with 
those things respecting which there was a dif- 
ference of opinion among Christians ; especially 
such as were of small moment; because he 
found that they engendered strife, while neither 
the doing nor the neglecting of them was any 
mark of a person's being a child of God. 

In his preaching, he tells us, he not unfre- 
quently found " a word cast in hy the by" to pro- 
duce more good than all the rest of the sermon. 
Sometimes, too, when he thought he had done 
no good, then he had done most of all ; and at 
other times, when he " thought he should have 
catched them," he found he had "fished for 
nothing." 

In performing the duties of his ministry he 
was often sorely afflicted with temptations of 
various kinds. " Sometimes," he says, " I should 
be assaulted with great discouragement therein, 
fearing I should not be able to speak a word at 
all to edification ; nay, that I should not be able 
to speak sense unto the people ; at which times 



134 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

I should have such a strange faintness and 
strengthlessness seize upon my body, that my 
legs have been scarce able to carry me to the 
place of exercise. Sometimes, again, when I 
have been preaching, I have been violently as- 
saulted with thoughts of blasphemy, and strong- 
ly tempted to speak the words with my mouth 
before the congregation. I have also at some- 
times, even when I have begun with much 
liberty of speech, yet \>een, before the end of 
that opportunity, so straightened as to utterance 
before the people, that I have been as if I had 
not known or remembered what I have been 
about ; or as if my head had been in a bag all the 
time of my exercise. 

" Again, sometimes, as I have been about to 
preach upon some smart and searching portion 
of the word, I have found the tempter suggest, 

* What ! will you preach this 1 this condemns 
yourself ; wherefore preach not of this at all ; 

or if you do, yet so mince it, as to make way Jj^ 
for your own escape.' . . . But I thank the Lord, P>6 
I have been kept from consenting to these hor- ^ 
rid suggestions, and have rather, as Samson, 
bowed myself with all my might, to condemn 
sin wherever I found it ; yea, though therein 
also I did bring guilt upon my own conscience, 

* Let me die,' thought I, ' with the Philistines,' 



LIFE OF JOHN BTTPfYAN. 135 

rather than deal corruptly with the blessed word 
of God. Judges xvi, 20, 30, 

" I have also, while found in this blessed 
work of Christ, been often tempted to pride and 
liftings up of heart :* and though I dare not 
say I have not been affected with this, yet truly 
the Lord, of his precious mercy, hath so carried 
it toward me, that for the most part I have had 
but small joy to give way to such a thing ; for 
it hath been my every day's portion to be let 
into the evil of my own heart, and still made to 
see such a multitude of corruptions and infirmi- 
ties therein, that it hath caused hanging down 
of the head, under all my gifts and attainments. 

" I have also (at such times) had some nota- 
ble place or other of the word presented before 
me, which contained some sharp and piercing 
sentence concerning the perishing of the soul, 
notwithstanding gifts and parts ; as for instance, 
this hath been of great use to me : ' Though I 
speak with the tongues of men and of angels, 

* The following anecdote occurs in one of Top- 
lady's works : — Mr. John Bunyan having preached one 
day with peculiar warmth and enlargement, some of his 
friends, after service was over, took him by the hand, and 
could not help observing what a sweet sermon he had 
delivered. " Ay," said the good man, " you need not 
remind me of that, for the devil told me of it before I 
was out of the pulpit.*' 



136 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

and have not charity, I am become as sounding 
brass, and a tinkling cymbal. And though I 
have the gift of prophecy, and understand all 
mysteries and all knowledge, and though I have 
all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and 
have not charity, I am nothing,' 1 Cor. iii, 1, 2." 
From all accounts it appears that Bunyan 
was not only a zealous and devoted preacher, — 
that was to be expected from his piety and the 
native warmth of his character, — but also a 
highly acceptable and successful one. Nor is 
this to be wondered at. Though in the com- 
mon acceptation of the word an unlearned, he 
was by no means an ignorant man, for he was 
evidently a shrewd observer of both men and 
things ; and if his reading was hitherto chiefly 
confined to the Bible, it must be remembered that 
he studied that with such an extraordinary in- 
tensity of interest, that few, even in that age, 
were more " mighty in the Scriptures." He 
possessed, too, all the requisites of natural ora- 
tory, — deep feeling, a vivid imagination^ strong 
sense, and a ready utterance : above all, his 
hearers felt that he was in earnest, and had 
their interest deeply at heart. Such a preacher 
could not fail to produce a prodigious effect upon 
his auditory. " His powerful and piercing 
words," observes one of his cotemporaries. 



LIFE OF JO,HN BUNYAN. 137 

" brought tears into the eyes, and melted the 
hearts" of his hearers.* 

The same writer adds, " By this time his 
family was increased, and as that increased God 
increased his stores, so that he lived now in 
great credit among his neighbours, who were 
amazed to find such a wonderful reformation in 
him ; that from a person so vile as he had been 
should spring up so good a Christian : and peo- 
ple who had heard his circumstances came 
many miles to hear him, and were highly satis- 
fied ; so that, telling their neighbours, more 
crowded after him, insomuch that the place was 
many times too strait for them ; for although he 
often confessed he had fears upon him, and 
doubts, and sometimes tremblings, inward evil 
suggestions, and temptations, before he stood 
up to speak, yet he no sooner began to utter the 
word of God than they all vanished ; he grew 
warm with a fervent zeal, and nothing obstruct- 
ed his delivery." — Old Memoir. 

* Burton, (the successor of Gifford,) then pastor of the 
church, said of Bunyan, " He hath through grace taken 
three heavenly degrees, namely : union with Christ, — the 
anointing of the Spirit, — and experience of temptation ; 
which do more fit a man for the weighty work of preach- 
ing the gospel, than all the university learning and de- 
grees that can be had." 



138 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

Bunyan was not, however, allowed to exer- 
cise his ministry without opposition. " When 
I first began to preach," he says, " the doctors 
and priests of the country did open wide against 
me : but I was persuaded of this, — not to ren- 
der railing for railing ; but to see how many of 
their carnal professors I could convince of their 
miserable state by the law, and of the want and 
worth of Christ." In 1657 (the year after he 
commenced preaching) an indictment was pre- 
ferred against him, as appears from the follow- 
ing entry in the church book still preserved at 
Bedford : — " On the 25th December, 1657, the 
church resolved to set apart a day for seeking 
counsel of God, what to do with respect to the 
indictment against brother Bunyan at the assizes, 
for preaching at Eaton."* The action was 
probably dropped, as we hear no more about it, 
and Bunyan was present at the church meet- 
ings in February and July of 1638. 

* Some surprise may be felt that such a persecution 
should have been set on foot under the government of 
Cromwell ; but Dr. Southey remarks, vs^ith truth, that 
" there was much more persecution during the pro- 
tectorate than Cromvv^ell w^ould have allovs^ed if he could 
have prevented it." The lawfulness of public preaching 
by men not ordained was, indeed, at that time a point 
v^^armly debated, the Presbyterians in general maintain- 
ing the negative with as lofty pretensions to divine right 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 139 

The malignity of his enemies appears to have 
increased in proportion to the popularity and 
success of his preaching ; and the vilest slan- 
ders were, by ignorant and malicious persons, 
" whirled up and down the country" against him. 
It was rumoured that he was a witch, a Jesuit, 
a highwayman, and even a libertine ; charges 
which he repelled with just and virtuous indig- 
nation. " These slanders," he says, " I glory 
in, because but slanders and falsehoods cast 
upon me by the devil and his seed ; and should 
I not be dealt with thus wickedly by the world, 
I should want one sign of a saint, and a. child 
of God. ' Blessed are ye,' said the Lord Jesus, 
* when men shall revile and persecute you, and 
shall say all manner of evil against you falsely 
for my sake. Rejoice and be exceeding glad ; 
for great is your reward in heaven : for so per- 
secuted they the prophets which were before 
you.' Matt, v, 11, 12. 

" These things, therefore, upon mine own 
account, troubled me not. No, though they 
were twenty times more than they are, I have 

as had been asserted by the champions of prelacy ; so as 
to draw forth Milton's biting sarcasm, — 

*' New presbyter is but old priest writ large." 

It is probable, however, that personal enmity occasioned 
this attempt to check Bunyan's usefulness. — Conder. 



140 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

a good conscience ; and whereas they speak 
evil of me, as of an evil doer, they shall be 
ashamed that falsely accuse my good conversa- 
tion in Christ. 

" So then w^hat shall I say to those who have 
thus bespattered me ? Shall I threaten them ? 
Shall I chide them ? Shall I flatter them ? Shall 
I entreat them to hold their tongues ? No, not I. 
Were it not for that these things make thera 
ripe for damnation that are the authors and 
abettors, I would say unto them. Report it, be- 
cause it will increase my glory. 

" Therefore I bind these lies and slanders to 
me as an ornament ; it belongs to my Christian 
profession to be vilified, slandered, reproached, 
and reviled ; and since all this is nothing else, 
as my God and my conscience do bear me wit- 
ness, I rejoice in reproaches for Christ's sake. 

" But as for mine accusers, let them provide 
themselves to meet me before the tribunal of 
the Son of God, there to answer for all these 
things, with all the rest of their iniquities, un- 
less God shall give them repentance for them, 
for the which I pray with all my heart." 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 141 



CHAPTER VII. 

bunyan's first publication : controversy 
with the quakers. 

Shortly after he began to preach, Bunyan felt 
himself called to take up his pen in defence of 
the doctrines of the gospel, against the heresies 
then propagated by the people called Quakers. 
These Quakers, who were then a new sect, 
having originated during the commotion of the 
civil wars, were a very different people from 
their successors of the present day. No body 
of professors were more full of fanaticism, or 
more eager to attack those who differed from 
them. Baxter, who frequently came in contact 
with them, thus describes their tenets and con- 
duct : — " They were but the Ranters, turned 
from horrid profaneness and blasphemy to a life 
of extreme austerity on the other side. Their 
doctrines were mostly the same with the Rant- 
ers ; they made the light which every man had 
within him to be his sufficient rule ; and con- 
sequently the Scriptures and ministry were set 
light by. They spake much for the dwelling 
and working of the Spirit in us, but little of 
justification, and the pardon of sin, and our re- 



142 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

conciliation with God through Jesus Christ. 
They pretend their dependance on the Spirit's 
conduct, against set times of prayer, and against 
sacraments, and against their due esteem of 
Scripture and ministry. They will not have 
the Scriptures called the word of God ; their 
principal zeal lieth in railing at the ministers as 
hirelings, deceivers, false prophets, &c. ; and 
in refusing to swear before a magistrate, or to 
put off their hat to any, &c. At first they did 
use to fall into tremblings, and sometimes vomit- 
ings, in their meetings, and pretended to be vi- 
olently acted on by the Spirit ; but now that is 
ceased. They only meet, and he that pretend- 
eth to be moved by the Spirit speaketh ; and 
sometimes they say nothing, but sit an hour or 
more in silence, and then depart. One while 
divers of them went naked through the several 
chief towns and cities of the land, as a prophe- 
tical act : some of them have famished and 
drowned themselves in melancholy ; and others 
have undertaken, by the power of the Spirit, to 
raise the dead. They have oft come into the con- 
gregation, when I had liberty to preach Christ's 
gospel, and cried out against me as a deceiver of 
the people. They have followed me home, cry- 
ing out in the streets, ' The day of the Lord is 
coming, when thou shalt perish as a deceiver.' " 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 143 

Such were the men against whose erroneous 
teachings Bunyan felt it his duty to warn the 
people, which he did in a pamphlet, entitled, 
" Some Gospel Truths opened according to the 
Scriptures : or the Divine and Human Nature 
in Christ Jesus ; his coming into the World ; 
his Righteousness, Death, Resurrection, Ascen- 
sion, Intercession, and second coming to Judg- 
ment, plainly demonstrated and proved." This 
work, which was Bunyan's first literary per- 
formance, appeared in 1656, the year in which 
he began to preach, with a commendatory pre- 
face by Burton. 

" An ill judgment," observes Dr. Southey, 
" might be formed of this treatise, from that 
part of the title which promises ' profitable di- 
rections to stand fast in the doctrine of Jesus, 
the son of Mary, against those blustering storms 
of the devil's temptations, which do at this day, 
like so many scorpions, break loose from the 
bottomless pit, to bite and torment those that 
have not tasted the virtue of Jesus, by the re- 
velation of the Spirit of God.' Little wisdom 
and less moderation might be expected in a 
polemical discourse so introduced. It is, how- 
ever, a calm, well- arranged, and well-supported 
statement of the Scriptural doctrines on some 
momentous points which the primitive Quakers 



144 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

were understood by others to deny ; and which, 
in fact, (though they did not so understand 
themselves,) they frequently did deny, both vir- 
tually and explicitly, when in the heat and acer- 
bity of oral disputation they said, they knew not 
what ; and also, when, under the same belief of 
immediate inspiration, they committed to writ- 
ing whatever words came uppermost, as fast as 
the pen could put them down, and subjected to 
no after revision what had been produced with 
no forethought." 

This is strong commendation ; but Mr. Philip 
goes still further ; he says, " It sweeps the 
whole circle of the Messiahship of Jesus, and 
that with a strict logic and in a pure taste. I 
can never read it without thinking of Dr. Smith's 
' Scripture Testimony.' It has all the convinc- 
ing power of that masterly work, although it 
acquires that power from common sense alone. 
. . . For ordinary readers it is perhaps the best 
thing against Socinianism they could read. In 
this point of view it deserves to be republished 
and circulated among the poor ; for its bearings 
against old Quakerism are its least merit." 

In this treatise, observes the same writer, 
Bunyan does not name " any minister or book 
of the Quakers ; with the exception of seven 
questions to them, at the end of it, he does not 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 145 

even plead with them, but with those who * lis- 
tened to them.' " His l^owledge of their doc- 
trine he probably derived from their own lips ; 
for it appears he had often heard them, and had 
also, like Baxter, been sometimes interrupted 
and reviled by them while he was preaching. 

To Bunyan's treatise, Edward Burroughs, 
a noted man among the Quakers in those days, 
published a reply under the following title, 
** The True Faith of the Gospel of Peace con- 
tended for in a Spirit of Meekness ; and the 
Mystery of Salvation (Christ within, the Hope 
of Glory) vindicated in the Spirit of Love, 
against the Secret Opposition of John Bunyan, 
a professed Minister in Bedfordshire." These 
mild and loving words, however, served but to 
introduce a most virulent and abusive tirade, of 
the spirit of which the following passages may 
be taken as a specimen : — " The Lord rebuke 
thee, thou unclean spirit, who hast falsely ac- 
cused the innocent to clear thyself from guilt ; 
but at thy door guilt lodges, and I leave it with 
thee ; clear thyself, if thou art able. And thy 
wicked reproaches we patiently bear, till the 
Lord appear for us : and we are not greater 
than our Lord, who was said to have a devil, by 
thy generation ; and their measure of wicked- 
ness thou fulfils, and art one of the dragon's 

10 




/ 

146 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

army against the Lamb and his followers ; and 
thy weapons are slanders, and thy refuge is 
lies ; and thy work is confused, and hath hardly 
gained a name in Babylon's record. ... If we 
should diligently search, we should find thee, 
through feigned words, through covetousness, 
making merchandise of souls, loving the wages 
of unrighteousness : and such were the scoffers 
whom Peter speaks of, among whom thou art 
found in thy practice, among them who are 
preaching for hire, and love the error of Balaam, 
who took gifts and rewards." 

To Burroughs' pamphlet Bunyan published 
an answer, vindicating his former treatise, and 
maintaining that the Quakers held substantially 
the same opinions that the Ranters had formerly 
done, " only that the Ranters had made them 
threadbare at an alehouse, and the Quakers had 
set a new gloss upon them again by an outward 
legal holiness or righteousness." To the charge 
of preaching for hire, and making merchandise 
of souls, he replied thus : — " Friend, dost thou 
speak this as from thy own knowledge, or did 
any other tell thee so ? However, that spirit 
that led thee out of this way is a lying spirit ; 
for though I be poor and of no repute in the 
world, as to outward things, yet this grace I 
ave learned, by the example of the apostle, to 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 159 

After he had lain in prison five or six days, 
some of his friends made another effort to pro- 
cure his enlargement, by giving bonds for his 
appearance at the sessions ; for his mittimus 
stated that he was to lie in jail till he could find 
sureties ; but the magistrate to whom they ap- 
plied, though at first he had promised to take 
bail, afterward refused to do so. " At this," 
says Bunyan, " I was not at all daunted, but 
rather glad, and saw evidently that the Lord 
had heard me ; for before I went down to the 
justice, I begged of God, that if I might do 
more good by being at liberty than in prison, 
then I might be set at liberty ; but if not, his 
will be done ; for I was not altogether without 
hope but that my imprisonment might be an 
awakening to the saints in the country ; there- 
fore I could not tell well which to choose ; only 
I in that manner did commit the thing to God. 
And verily, at my return, I did meet my God 
sweetly in the prison again, comforting of me, 
and satisfying of me that it was his will and 
mind that I should be there." 

At the quarter sessions for the county, which 
were held at Bedford in January, 1661, near 
two months after his commitment, Bunyan was 
brought up and examined before five justices 
— Keehng, Chester, Blundale, Beecher, and 



160 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

Snagge. The substance of the examination we 
give from Bunyan's own account. 

The bill of indictment preferred against him 
ran to this effect : — " That John Bunyan, of the 
town of Bedford, labourer, being a person of 
such and such conditions, hath (since such a 
time) devilishly and perniciously abstained from 
coming to church to hear divine service, and is a 
common upholder of unlawful meetings and con- 
venticles, to the great disturbance and distraction 
of the good subjects of this kingdom, contrary to 
the laws of our sovereign lord the king," <fec. 

" After this was read," says Bunyan, " the 
clerk of the sessions said unto me, ' What say 
you to this V I said, that as to the first part of 
it, I was a common frequenter of the church of 
God ; and was also, by grace, a member of the 
people over whom Christ is the head. 

" ' But,' said Justice Keeling, who was the 
judge in that court, ' do you come to church ; — 
you know what I mean, to the parish church, — 
to hear divine service V I answered. No, I did 
not. He asked me why. I said, Because I 
did not find it in the word of God. He said we 
were commanded to pray. I said, ' But not by 
the Common Prayer-book.' He said, 'How then?' 
I said, ' With the spirit ; as the apostle saith, 
" I will pray with the spirit, and with the un- 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 161 

derstanding." ' He said, we might pray with 
the spirit, and with the understanding, and with 
the Common Prayer-book also. I said, that the 
prayers in the Common Prayer-book were such 
as were made by other men, and not by the mo- 
tions of the Holy Ghost in our hearts ; and the 
apostle saith, he will pray with the spirit and 
with the understanding ; not with the spirit and 
the Common Prayer-book. 

" One of the justices said, ' What do you 
count prayer 1 Do you think it is to say a few- 
words over, before or among a people V I said, 
* No, not so ; for men might have many elegant 
or excellent words, and yet not pray at all : but 
when a man prayeth^ he doth, through a sense 
of those things which he wants, (which sense 
is begotten by the Spirit.) pour out his heart 
before God, through Christ : though his words 
be not so many, and so excellent as others are.' 
They said, that was true. I said, this might be 
done without the Common Prayer-book. 

" One of them said, ' How should we know 
that you do not write out your prayers first, and 
then read them afterward to the people?' This 
he spake in a laughing way. I said, ' It is not 
our use to take a pen and paper, and write a 
few words thereon, and then go and read it over 
to a company of people.* 

11 



162 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

" * But,' said Justice Keeling, ' it is lawful to 
use the Common Prayer, and such like forms ; 
for Christ taught his disciples to pray, as John 
also taught his disciples.' And further, said he, 
' Cannot one man teach another to pray ? " Faith 
comes by hearing ;" and one man may convince 
another of sin ; and therefore prayers made by 
men, and read over, are good to teach, and help 
men to pray.' 

" While he was speaking these words, God 
brought that word in Rom. viii, 26, into my mind : 
I say God brought it, for I thought not on it 
before ; but as he was speaking it came so fresh 
into my mind, and was set so evidently before 
me, as if the scripture had said, ' Take me, take 
me ;' so when he had done speaking I said, ' Sir, 
the Scripture saith, that " it is the Spirit that 
helpeth our infirmities ; for we know not what 
we should pray for as we ought ; but the Spirit 
itself maketh intercession for us, with groanings 
which cannot be uttered." Mark,' said I, ' it 
doth not say that the Common Prayer-book teach- 
eth us how to pray, but the Spirit ; . . . and 
though one man may tell another how he should 
pray ; yet, as I said before, he cannot pray, nor 
make his condition known to God, except the 
Spirit help. It is not the Common Prayer-book 
that can do this. It is the Spirit that sheweth 



LIFE OF JORN BUNYAN. 163 

US our sins, and the Spirit that sheweth us a 
Saviour ; and the Spirit that stirreth up in our 
hearts desires to come to God for such things 
as we stand in need of, even sighing out our 
souls to him for them, with groans which can- 
not be uttered.' " At this, and other remarks 
to the same effect, he tells us the justices 
were " set.'''' 

Keeling then asked him what objections he 
had to the Common Prayer-book ? He gave his 
reasons for not using it ; adding, " But yet, not- 
withstanding, they that have a mind to use it, 
they have their liberty ; that is, I would not 
keep them from it ; but for our parts, we can 
pray to God without it, blessed be his name." 

" With that one of them said, ' Who is your 
God, Beelzebub V Moreover, they often said 
that I was possessed with the spirit of delusion, 
and of the devil : all which sayings I passed 
over. The Lord forgive them ! And further, I 
said, ' Blessed be the Lord for it, we are encou- 
raged to meet together, and to pray and exhort 
one another ; for we have the comfortable pre- 
sence of God among us ; for ever blessed be his 
holy name.' 

"Justice Keeling then called this 'pedlar's 
French;' saying that I must leave off my 'cant- 
ing.' The Lord open his eyes ! 



164 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

" I said that we ought to ' exhort one another 
daily, while it is called to-day,' &c. Justice 
Keeling said, that I ought not to preach ; and 
asked me where I had my authority ; with other 
such like words. I said, that I would prove that 
it was lawful for me, and for such as 1 am, to 
preach the word of God. He said unto me, 
• By what scripture ? ' I said, by that in 1 Pet. 
iv, 11 ; and Acts xviii ; with others, which he 
would not suffer me to mention ; but said, ' Hold, 
not so many ; which is the first 1 ' 

" I said, ' This : " As every man hath re- 
ceived the gift, even so let him minister the 
same unto another, as good stewards of the ma- 
nifold grace of God. If any man speak, let 
him speak as the oracles of God," &c.' ^j 

" He said, ' Let me a little open that scrip- 
ture to you : " As every man hath received the 
gift," that is,' said he, ' as every man hath re- 
ceived a trade, so let him follow it. If any man 
hath received a gift of tinkering^ as thou hast 
done, let him follow his tinkering. And so 
other men their trades ; and the divine his call- 
ing, &c.' 

" ' Nay, sir,' said I, ' but it is most clear that 
the apostle speaks here of preaching the word. 
If you do but compare both the verses together, 
the next verse explains this gift, what it is, say- 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 165 

ing, " If any man speak, let him speak as the 
oracles of God :" so then it is plain that the 
Holy Ghost doth not so much in this place ex- 
hort to civil callings, as to the exercise of those 
gifts that we have received from God.' I would 
have gone on, but he would not give me leave. 

" He said, we might do it in our families, but 
not otherways. I said, if it were lawful to do 
good to some, it was lawful to do good to more. 
If it were a good duty to exhort our families, it 
was good to exhort others ; but if they held it 
a sin to meet together to seek the grace of God, 
and exhort one another to follow Christ, I should 
sin still ; for so we should do. 

" He said he was not so well versed in Scrip- 
ture as to dispute, or words to that purpose ; and, 
moreover, that they could not wait upon me any 
longer ; but said to me, ' Then you confess the 
indictment, do you not ? ' Now, and not till now, 
I saw that I was indicted. I said, 'This I con- 
fess, we have had many meetings together, both 
to pray to God, and to exhort one another ; and 
that we had the sweet, comforting presence of 
the Lord among us for our encouragement, 
blessed be his name ; therefore, I confess my- 
self guilty, and no otherwise.' 

" ' Then,' said he, ' hear your judgment. You 
must be had back again to prison, and there lie 



166 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN". 

for three months following ; and at three months' 
end, if you do not submit to go to church to hear 
divine service, and leave your preaching, you 
must be banished the realm : and if, after such 
a day as shall be appointed you to be gone, you 
shall be found in this realm, or be found to come 
over again without special license from the king, 
you must stretch for it ; I tell you plainly.' And 
so he bid my jailer have me away. 

" I told him, as to this matter I was at a 
point with him ; for if I were out of prison to- 
day, I would preach the gospel again to-mor- 
row, by the help of God. To which some one 
made answer, but my jailer pulling me away to 
be gone, I could not tell what he said, 

" Thus I departed from them ; and I can truly 
say, I bless the Lord Jesus Christ for it, that 
my heart was sweetly refreshed in the time of 
my examination, and also afterward, at my return- 
ing to the prison ; so that I found Christ's words 
more than bare trifles, where he saith, * I will 
give you a mouth and wisdom, which all your 
adversaries shall not be able to gainsay nor re- 
sist,' Luke xxi, 15." 

The admissions made by Bunyan in this exa- 
mination being thus taken for a confession of 
the indictment, he was remanded to prison, 
where, on the third of April, he was visited 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 167 

by Mr. Cobb, the clerk of the peace, who, as 
he said, was sent by the justices to admonish 
him, and demand his submission to the Church 
of England. Bunyan has recorded the substance 
of the discourse that was held between them, 
and from his account we give the following : — 

" When he was come into the house he sent 
for me out of my chamber ; and when I was 
come to him, he said, ' Neighbour Bunyan, how 
do you do ?' * I thank you, sir,' I said, * very well, 
blessed be the Lord.' 

" Saith he, ' I come to tell you, that it is de- 
sired you would submit to the laws of the land, 
or else at the next sessions it will go worse 
with you, even to be sent away out of the na- 
tion ; or else worse than that.' 

" I said, ' Sir, I conceive that the law by 
which I am in prison at this time doth not con- 
demn me or the meetings that I frequent. That 
law was made against those, that being design- 
ed to do evil in their meetings, making the 
exercise of religion their pretence to cover their 
wickedness. It doth not forbid the private 
meetings of those that plainly and simply make 
it their only end to worship the Lord, and ex- 
hort one another to edification. My end in 
meeting with others is simply to do as much 
good as I can, by exhortation and counsel, ac- 



168 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

cording to that small measure of light which 
God hath given me ; and not to disturb the peace 
of the nation.' 

" ' Every one will say the same,' said he ; 
*you see the late insurrection in London, under 
what glorious pretences they went; and yet 
indeed they intended no less than the ruin of 
the kingdom and commonwealth.'* 

" ' That practice of theirs I abhor,' said I ; 
* yet it doth not follow that because they did so, 

* The insurrection alluded to is that headed by one 
Thomas Venner, a cooper, who held forth at a small 
meeting house in the city. This man had excited a few 
enthusiasts, like himself, with the expectation of a "fifth 
monarchy," under the personal reign of King Jesus, and 
that the saints were to take the kingdom to themselves. 
To introduce this imaginary kingdom, they marched out 
of their meeting house on Sunday, January 6, 1661, to 
the number of about fifty men, well armed, with a reso. 
lution to subvert the present government, or die in the 
attempt. At first they successfully resisted several com- 
panies sent against them, defending themselves with 
desperate resolution ; but on Wednesday, after Venner, 
their leader, had been knocked down, and about half 
their number killed, they were compelled to surrender. 
This mad insurrection was greedily laid hold of by the 
court as a plea for the adoption of severe measures 
against the dissenters ; and a proclamation was immedi- 
ately issued, forbidding Baptists, Quakers, and Fifth. 
Monarchy men, to hold meetings for public worship. 



LITE OF JOHN BUNVAX. 169 

therefore all others will do so. I look upon it 
as my duty to behave myself under the king's 
government both as becomes a man and a Chris- 
tian ; and if an occasion were offered me, I 
should willingly manifest my loyalty to my 
prince, both by word and deed.' 

" * Well ' said he, ' I do not profess myself to 
be a man that can dispute ; but this I say truly, 
neighbour Bunyan, I would have you consider 
this matter seriously, and submit yourself. You 
may have your liberty to exhort your neighbour 
in private discourse, so be you do not call toge- 
ther an assembly of people ; and truly you may 
do much good to the church of Christ, if you 
would go this way ; and this you may do, and 
the law not abridge you of it. It is your private 
meetings that the law is against.' 

" ' Sir,' said I, ' if I may do good to one 
by. my discourse, why may I not do good to 
two ? and if to two, why not to four, and so to 
eight? &c.' 

" ' Ay,' saith he, * and to a hundred, I war- 
rant you.' 

" ' Yes, sir,' said I, ' I think I should not be 
forbid to do as much good as I can.' 

" ' But,' said he, ' you may but pretend to do 
good, and instead, notwithstanding, do harm, by 
seducing the people. You are therefore denied 



170 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

your meeting so many together, lest you should 
do harm.' 

" ' And yet,' said I, 'you say the law tole- 
rates me to discourse with my neighbour ; surely 
there is no law tolerates me to seduce any one ; 
therefore if I may by the law discourse with 
one, surely it is to do him good ; and if I by 
discoursing may do good to one, surely, by the 
same law, I may do good to many.' 

" ' The law,' saith he, ' doth expressly forbid 
your private meetings ; therefore they are not 
to be tolerated.' 

" I told him that I would not entertain so 
much uncharitableness of that parliament in the 
35th of Elizabeth, or of the queen herself, as to 
think they did by that law intend the oppressing 
of any of God's ordinances, or the interrupting 
any in the way of God. Men may, in the wrest- 
ing of it, turn it against the way of God ; but 
take the law in itself, and it only fighteth against 
those that drive at mischief in their meetings, 
making religion only their cloak or pretence ; 
for so are the words of the statute : — ' If 
any meetings under colour or pretence of reli- 
gion,' &c. 

" * Very good,' he replied, ' therefore the king 

(seeing that pretences are usually in and among 

I people, so as to make religion their pretence 




LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 171 

only) doth forbid such private meetings, and 
tolerates only public. You may meet in public' 

" ' Sir,' said I, ' let me answer you in a simi- 
litude : set the case that at such a wood corner 
there did usually come forth thieves to do mis- 
chief ; must there therefore be a law made that 
every one that cometh out there shall be killed ? 
May there not come out from thence true men, 
as well as thieves ? Just thus it is in this case : 
I do think there may be many that design the 
destruction of the commonwealth ; but it doth 
not follow therefore that all private meetings are 
unlawful. Those that transgress, let them be 
punished ; and if at any time I myself should 
do any act in my conversation as doth not be- 
come a man and a Christian, let me bear the 
punishment. And as for your saying I may 
meet in public, if I may be suffered I would 
gladly do it, I do not meet in private because 
I am afraid to have meetings in public. I bless 
the Lord that my heart is at that point, that if 
any man can lay anything to my charge, either 
in doctrine or in practice, in this particular, that 
can be proved error or heresy, I am willing to 
disown it, even in the very market-place. But 
if it be truth, then to stand to it to the last drop 
of my blood.' 

" ' But, good-man Bunvan,' said he, ' me- 



172 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

thinks you need not stand so strictly upon this 
one thing, as to have meetings of such public 
assemblies. Cannot you submit, and notwith- 
standing do as much good as you can, in a 
neighbourly way, without having such meet- 
ings ? ' 

" ' Truly, sir,' said I, ' I do not desire to com- 
mend myself, but to think meanly of myself; . . 
yet when I see that the Lord, through grace, 
hath in some measure blessed my labour, I dare 
not but exercise that gift which God hath given 
me, for the good of the people.' And I said 
further, that ' I would willingly speak in public 
if I might.' 

" He said, * You may come to the public as- 
semblies and hear. What though you do not 
preach ? you may hear. Do not think yourself 
so well enlightened, and that you have received 
a gift so far above others, but that you may hear 
other men preach.' 

" I told him, I was as willing to be taught 
as to give instruction, and I looked upon it as 
my duty to do both ; for (said I) a man that is 
a teacher, he himself may learn also from an- 
other that teacheth ; as the apostle saith, ' We 
may all prophesy one by one, that all may 
learn,' 1 Cor. xiv, 31. 

" * But,' said he, ' what if you should forbear 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 173 

awhile, and sit still, till you see further how 
things will go ?' 

" ' Sir,' said I, ' Wickliffe saith, that he which 
leaveth off preaching and hearing the word of 
God for fear of excommunication of men, is al- 
ready excommunicated of God, and shall in the 
day of judgment be counted a traitor to Christ.* 

" ' Ay,' saith he, ' they that do not hear shall 
be so counted indeed ; do you therefore hear.' 

"'But, sir,' said I, 'he saith, he that shall 
leave off either preaching or hearing, &c. That 
is, if he hath received a gift for edification, it is 
his sin if he doth not lay it out in a way of ex-^ 
hortation and counsel, according to the propor-/ 
tion of his gift.' 

" ' But,' said he, ' how shall we know that. 
you have received a gift 1 ' 

" Said I, ' Let any man hear and search, and 
prove the doctrine by the Bible.' 

" ' But will you be willing,' said he, ' that two 
indifferent persons should determine the case, 
and will you stand by their judgment?' 

" I said, ' Are they infallible V 

" He said, ' No.' 

" ' Then,' said I, 'it is possible my judgment 
may be as good as theirs. But yet I will pass 
by either, and in this matter be judged by Scrip- 
ture : I am sure that is infallible, and cannot err.' 



174 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

" ' But,' said he, ' who shall be judge between 
you? for you take the Scriptures one way, and 
they another.' 

" I said, 'The Scripture should ; and that by 
comparing one scripture with another ; for that 
will open itself, if it be rightly compared.' 

" ' But are you willing,' said he, ' to stand to 
the judgment of the Church ? ' 

" ' Yes, sir,' said I, 'to the approbation of the 
church of God ; (the church's judgment is best 
expressed in Scripture.') 

" ' Well, neighbour Bunyan,' said he, * but 
indeed I wish you seriously to consider of these 
things, between this and the quarter sessions, 
and to submit yourself. You may do much 
good if you still continue in the land ; but alas ! 
what benefit will it be to your friends, or what 
good can you do to them, if you should be sent 
away beyond the seas into Spain, or Constanti- 
nople, or some other remote part of the world ? 
Pray be ruled.' 

" ' Indeed, sir,' said the jailer, ' I hope he will 
be ruled.' 

" ' I shall desire,' said I, ' in all godliness and 
honesty to behave myself in the nation whilst I 
am in it ; and if I must be so dealt withal, as 
you say, I hope God will help me to bear what 
they shall lay upon me. I know no evil that I 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 175 

have done in this matter, to be so used. I speak 
as in the presence of God.'' 

" ' You know,' said he, ' that the Scripture 
saith, " The powers that be are ordained of 
God." ' 

" I said, ' Yes, and that I am to submit " to 
the king as supreme, and also to the governors, 
as to them who are sent by him." ' 

" ' Well, then,' said he, * the king commands 
that you should not have any private meetings, 
because it is against his law, and he is ordained 
of God, therefore you should not have any.' 

" I told him, ' Paul did own the powers that 
were in his day to be of God ; and yet he was 
often in prison under them, for all that. And 
also, though Jesus Christ told Pilate that he had 
no power against him, but of God, yet he died 
under the same Pilate. And yet,' said I, ' I 
hope you will not say that either Paul or Christ 
were such as did deny magistracy, and so sin- 
ned against God in slighting the ordinance. 
Sir,' said I, 'the law hath provided two ways 
of obeying ; the one to do that which I in my 
conscience do believe that I am bound to do, 
actively ; and when I cannot obey actively, then 
I am willing to lie down and suffer what they 
shall do unto me.' At this he sat still and said 
no more ; which when he had done, I did thank 



176 L1F£ OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

him for his civil and meek discoursing with me ; 
and so we parted. O that we might meet in 
heaven ! " 

It would appear that the guileless simplicity 
of Bunyan could see nothing in Cobb's visit but 
a benevolent effort to persuade him not to pro- 
voke the severity of the law, but to "desist from 
preaching, at least for a time, or until some fa- 
vourable change in affairs should take place ; 
but the fact that he was sent on his errand by 
the very persons who had procured tbe preach- 
er's arrest and imprisonment, and the decided 
hostility which he afterward manifested to Bun- 
yan, are, we think, sufficient proofs that he was 
actuated on this occasion by no kindly feelings 
toward the prisoner. 

But the question may be asked, whether Bun- 
yan, circumstanced as he was, might not, with- 
out any sacrifice of principle, have complied 
with the terms proposed as the condition of 
his release; namely, to desist from preaching? 
If he had done so, he might still, as Cobb 
urged, have done " much good in a neighbourly 
way," whereas his continuance in prison seem- 
ed effectually to cut him off, not only from the 
public ministration of the word, but also from 
every other mode of advancing the cause of 
religion, besides depriving him of the means of 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 177 

supporting his family. To a timid, irresolute 
spirit, this reasoning would have been sufficiently- 
conclusive. Such a spirit, however, was not 
John Bunyan's. He was persuaded that, " a 
dispensation of the gospel" having been " com- 
mitted" unto him, a " wo" rested upon him if, 
under any circumstances, he consented to with- 
hold his message ; and he would have laid down 
life rather than have complied with such an 
unrighteous requirement. If, however, his per- 
secutors should restrain him by force, the sin 
would lie at their door, not at his. He was 
doubtless not a little confirmed in his determi- 
nation by the sentiment of Wickliffe, (which he 
quoted to Cobb,) that he who left off preaching 
through fear of man, should in the day of judg- 
ment be counted a traitor to Christ. It should 
be remembered, too, that he was not acting for 
himself alone in this matter. He had many ad- 
herents and converts within the range of his itine- 
rancy, who looked up to him as their pastor and 
leader, and who, when their time of trial came, 
■would naturally be influenced in their course by 
his own conduct on the present occasion. He 
felt this, says Mr. Philip, and nobly resolved to 
set liiem an example of unflinching steadfastness. 
In reviewing the account of Bunyan's exami- 
nations before the justices, and his discourses 

12 



178 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 



with Cobb and others, no considerate person 
can fail to be struck with the exceeding force, 
propriety, and concUisiveness of his replies, and 
the spirit of meekness and love with which they 
were uttered. We do not at all wonder that the 
justices "were set,'^ and that Cobb "sat still 
and said no more." In reading the narrative we 
are forcibly reminded of our Lord's declaration 
to his followers, " They shall lay their hands ou 
you, and persecute you, delivering you up to the 
synagogues, and into prisons. But when they 
deliver you up, take no thought how or what ye 
shall speak, for it shall be given you in that 
same hour what ye shall speak ; for I will give 
you a mouth and wisdom which all your adver- 
saries shall not be able to crainsay or resist." 
Well might Bunyan say, as he did at the close 
of one of his examinations, " I found these 
words to be more than bare trifles." 



LIFE OF JOHxV BUNYAN. 179 



CHAPTER IX 

MRS. BUNYAN APPLIES TO THE JUDGES FOR 
HER HUSBAND'S RELEASE. 

About three weeks after Cobb's visit, and just 
when the time drew nigh at which Bunyan, if 
he did not submit, was to suffer banishment, or 
" worse than that," the coronation of the king 
took place. This was on the 23d of April, 
1661, on which occasion a general pardon was 
proclaimed of persons accused of offences against 
the crown, and thousands who had been commit- 
ted for nonconformity and other offences were set 
at liberty. Bunyan might also have taken the ben- 
efit of this, had not the justices put him down for a 
convicted person ; and as such he could not be 
released without suing out a pardon, for which 
twelve months were allowed by the proclamation. 
At the next assizes, which w^ere held in Au- 
gust, 1661, Bunyan, not willing to leave unat- 
tempted any lawful means that might possibly 
effect his release, presented several times, 
through his wife, a petition to the judges, " that 
he might be heard, and that they would take his 
case impartially into consideration." What suc- 
cess she met with will be seen from what follows. 




180 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

The first time Mrs. Bunyan went, she pre- 
sented the petition to Judge Hale, who very 
mildly received it, and told her he would do the 
best he could; but he feared he could do nothing. 

The next day, fearing lest in the press of 
business they should forget the subject, she 
threw another petition into the coach, to Judge 
Twisdon ; but when he saw it, he angrily told 
her, that her husband was a convicted person, 
and could not be released unless he would pro- 
mise to leave off preaching. 

After this she presented another petition to 
Judge Hale, as he sat on the bench, and he 
seemed willing to give her a hearing ; but 
Justice Chester, who was present, telling him 
that Bunyan was a hot-spirited fellow, he waived 
the matter, and declined interfering. 

Encouraged however by the high sheriff, Mrs. 
Bunyan made another effort to procure her hus- 
band's release before the judges left the town. 
The " two judges, and many justices and gentry 
of the country, were in company together at the 
Swan-chamber." With " a bashed face and 
a trembling heart" she entered the room. Ad- 
dressing herself to Judge Hale, she said, " I 
make bold to come once again to your lordship, 
to know what may be done with my husband." 

He replied, " I have told thee before that I 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 181 

could do thee no good ; because they have taken 
that for a conviction vv'^hich thy husband spoke 
at the sessions : and unless there can be some- 
thing done to undo that, I can do thee no good." 

" My lord," said she, " he is kept unlawfully 
in prison ; they clapped him up before there was 
any proclamation against the meetings. The 
indictment also is false : besides, they never 
asked him whether he was guilty or no ; neither 
did he confess the indictment." 

One of the justices that stood by said, that 
he had been laAvfully convicted. 

" It is false," she replied ; " for w^hen they 
said to him, ' Do you confess the indictment V 
he said only this, that he had been at several 
meetings where there was both preaching the 
word and prayer, and that they had God's pre- 
sence among them." 

" My lord, he was lawfully convicted," said 
Justice Chester. 

" It is false," said she ; " it was but a word 
of discourse that they took for a conviction." 

" But it is recorded, woman, it is recorded," 
said Chester ; and with these words he often 
attempted to stop her mouth ; as if it must of 
necessity be true, because it was recorded. 

Mrs. Bunyan then told Judge Hale that she 
had been to London, to see if she could get her 



182 LIFE OF JOHN BUNVAN. 

husband's liberty ; and that while there she had 
presented a petition in his behalf to Lord Bark- 
wood, one of the House of Lords, who, after 
showing it to other noblemen, had told her they 
could not release him, but had committed his 
releasement to the judges at the next assizes. 
" And now," she said, " I am come to you to see 
if anything may be done in this business, and 
you give me neither releasement nor relief." 

" My lord, "said Chester, " he is a pestilent fel- 
low ; there is not his fellow in the country again." 

" Will your husband leave preaching ?" said 
Twisdon : "if he will do so, then send for him." 

" My lord," said she, " he dares not leave 
preaching, as long as he can speak." 

" See there," cried Twisdon, " what should 
we talk any more about such a fellow ? Must he 
do what he lists ? He is a breaker of the peace." 

" He desires to live peaceably, my lord," re- 
joined Mrs. Bunyan, " and to follow his calling, 
that his family may be maintained. I have four 
small children that cannot help themselves, one 
of which is blind ; and we have nothing to live 
upon but the charity of good people," 

" Hast thou four children ? " said Hale ; " thou 
art but a young woman to have four children," 

" My lord," said she, " I am but mother-in- 
law to them, having not been married to him 



LIFE OP JOHN BUNYAN. 183 

yet two full years." She then proceeded to add, 
that she was near her confinement when her 
husband was apprehended ; and that the shock 
brought on premature labour, and the child died. 

Upon hearing this, Judge Hale, looking very 
seriously, exclaimed, " Alas ! poor woman." 

Judge Twisdon brutally remarked, that she 
made poverty her cloak, and that her husband 
was better maintained by running up and do-wn 
preaching, than by following his calling. 

" What is his calling ?" asked Judge Hale. 

"A tinker, my lord," said one of the company. 

" Yes," rejoined Mrs. Bunyan, " and because 
he is a tinker and a poor man, therefore he is 
despised, and cannot have justice." 

Hale evidently felt the force of her appeals, 
and was disposed to do what he could in her 
behalf, notwithstanding the violence of the 
others. He replied very mildly, " I tell thee, 
woman, seeing it is so, that they have taken 
what thy husband said for a conviction, thou 
must apply thyself to the king, or sue out his 
pardon, or get a writ of error." 

Chester, who was one of the justices by whom 
Bunyan was tried, could not conceal his vexation 
on hearing the judge give this advice ; especially 
at his mentioning a writ of error. " My lord," he 
exclaimed, " he will preach and do what he lists." 



184 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

" He preaches nothing but the word of God," 
said his wife. " He preach the word of God ! " 
said Twisdon, in a rage ; " he runneth up and 
down, and doth harm." 

" No, my lord," said she, " it is not so ; God 
hath owned him, and done much good by him." 

" God !" said Twisdon, " his doctrine is the 
doctrine of the devil." 

J' My lord," once more replied this meek, yet 
spirited woman," when the righteous Judge shall 
appear, it will be known that his doctrine is not 
the doctrine of the devil." 

There was no answering this ; and Twis- 
don, turning to Hale, said, " Do not mind her, 
my lord, but send her away." 

Hale, evidently moved, said again to her, in 
a tone of kindness, " I am sorry, woman, that I 
can do thee no good. Thou must do one of 
those three things aforesaid, namely, either to ap- 
ply to the king, or sue out his pardon, or get a writ 
of error ; but a writ of error will be cheapest." 

She several times entreated them to send 
for her husband, that he might speak for himself, 
urging that he would be able to give them better 
satisfaction respecting what they demanded of 
him : but she could not prevail on them to do so. 

In concluding her account, Mrs. Bunyan says, 
" Though I was somewhat timorous at my 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 185 

first entrance into the chamber, yet before I 
went out I could not but break forth into tears, 
not so much because they were so hard-hearted 
against me and my husband, but to think what 
a sad account such poor creatures will have to 
give at the coming of the Lord." Here Mr. 
Conder remarks, — " How could she suppose 
that one of those judges was a man of saintly 
piety and integrity ! And how little did that 
judge suspect that the prisoner, whose cause 
was thus pathetically pleaded, was destined, by 
his writings, to win to himself an everlasting 
name, as the guide of Christian pilgrims to the 
heavenly city I At the coming of the Lord, Hale 
and Bunyan will not be divided."* 

When or by what means Bunyan lost his first 
wife, he has not told us ; and of the second we 
know nothing more than we have just related. 
Indeed, throughout his entire narrative he never 
alludes to his domestic affairs, except incidental- 

* Bishop Burnet published a Life of this upright judge, 
whom he describes as " one of the greatest patterns this 
age has afforded, whether in his private department as a 
Christian, or in his public employments either at the bar 
or on the bench." Baxter, who was intimately acquaint- 
ed with him, says, " I, who heard and read his serious 
expressions of the concernments of eternity, and saw his 
love to all good men, and the blamelessness of his life, 
thought better of his piety than my own." 



186 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

ly, when it has a bearing on his religious experi- 
ence, or his public ministry. Mr. St. John pays 
no small compliment to both of Bunyan's wives, 
when he says of the second, that she was wor- 
thy of the first. Of the latter we would say, 
that she was worthy of Bunyan himself, who 
evidently records, with much complacency, her 
intrepid replies to the judges when pleading for 
his enlargement. That whole scene showed 
that she had imbibed much of her husband's 
spirit : she was willing to attempt anything, or 
face any company, if she might honourably pro- 
cure his enlargement; but much as she had suffer- 
ed, and was likely to suffer,in consequence of his 
imprisonment, she would not have him purchase 
his liberty at the expense of a good conscience. 
It does not appear that Bunyan or his friends 
made any attempts to effect his release by taking 
out a writ of error, as recommended by Hale ; 
being probably deterred therefrom either by fear 
of the expense, or by despair of success. He 
therefore still continued in prison ; but for a time 
his confinement was not very rigid, owing to the 
indulgence of his jailer, who seems to have al- 
lowed him to go whither and return when he 
pleased. He was thus enabled to be frequently 
with his family; and in June and July, 1661, he 
was present at private meetings of the church, 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 187 

as appears from the church-book.* As often as 
he could, he visited the little flocks in the neigh- 
bouring villages vv'ho had attended his ministry; 
he was often out in the night ; and it is said that 
several of the Baptist churches in Bedfordshire 
ow^e their origin to his midnight preaching. 

Banyan's frequent absence from the prison at 
length came to the ears of some persecuting pre- 
lates, who, says Ivimey, " sent down an officer 
to talk with the jailer on the subject ; and, in 
order to find him out, he was to arrive there in 
the middle of the night. Bunyan was at home 
that night with his family, but so restless that 
he could not sleep : he therefore told his wife 
that he must return immediately. He did so ; 
and the jailer blamed him for coming in at so 
unseasonable an hour. Early in the morning 
the messenger came, and said, ' Are all the pri- 
soners safe?' ' Yes.' ' Is John Bunyan safe?' 
* Yes.' ' Let me see him,' He was called, and 
appeared, and all was well. After the messenger 
left, the jailer said to Bunyan, 'Well, you may go 

* This book is still preserved. Dr. Fisk, when at Bed- 
ford, saw it at the house of Mr. Hillyard. It is entitled, 
*' A Booke containing a Record of the Acts of a Congre- 
gation of Christ in and about Bedford." Many of the 
entries, he says, are in Bunyan's own hand ; and some 
of them during the term of his imprisonment. 



188 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

out again when you think proper ; for you know 
when to return better than I can tell you.' " 

To such an extent did Bunyan possess the 
confidence of his jailer, that he was even per- 
mitted to take a journey to London, to visit some 
of his Christian brethren there. Unfortunately 
his enemies heard of this, and " were so angry, 
that they had almost cast the jailer out of his 
place, threatening to indict him, and do what 
they could against him. They also," says Bun- 
yan, " charged me that I went thither to plot 
and raise division, and make insurrection, which 
God knows was a slander ; whereupon my liberty 
was more straitened than it was before, so that 
I must not look out of the door." 

At the next assizes, which were held in No- 
vember, 1661, he expected to be " roundly dealt 
with," but he was not called up. At the assizes 
held in the following January, being desirous to 
come before the judge, he got the jailer (who 
still befriended him as far as he could) to put 
his name into the calendar among the felons, 
and obtained a promise from the judge and the 
high sheriff that he should be called. He now 
thought that he had taken effectual measures 
for obtaining his desire ; but he was disappointed 
after all ; for when the assizes came, though his 
name was in the calendar, and the judge and 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 189 

sheriff had both promised that he should be 
called, yet the justices and the clerk of the peace 
managed matters so as to prevent his appearing. 
The clerk of the peace, it will be remembered, 
was Cobb, who now threw off the mask of friend- 
ship, and " discovered himself," says Bunyan, 
"to be one of my greatest opposers ; for first he 
came to my jailer, and told him that I must not 
go down before the judge, and therefore must 
not be put in the calendar ; to whom my jailer 
said, that my name was in already. He bid him 
put me out again : my jailer told him that he 
could not, for he had given the judge a calendar 
with my name in it, and also the sheriff another. 
At this he was very much displeased, and de- 
sired to see the calendar that was yet in the 
jailer's hand : when he had given it him, he 
looked on it, and said it was a false calendar, 
and blotted my accusation as my jailer had 
written it, and put in words to this purpose, — 
That John Bunyan was committed to prison, 
being lawfully convicted for upholding of un- 
lawfid meetings and conventicles, &lc. But yet 
for all this, fearing that what he had done, un- 
less he added thereto, it would not do, he first 
run to the clerk of the assizes, then to the justices, 
and afterward, because he would not leave any 
means unattempted to hinder me, he comes 



190 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

again to my jailer, and tells him that if I did go 
down before the judge, and was released, he 
would make him pay my fees, which he said 
were due to him ; and further told him, that he 
would complain of him at the next quarter ses- 
sions for making of false calendars, though my 
jailer himself, as I afterward learned, had put 
in ray accusation worse than in itself it was by far. 
And thus was 1 prevented at that time also from 
appearing before the judge, and left in prison." 

It does not appear that he was ever again 
brought before the court, or that the judges who 
had, without a regular trial, unjustly sentenced 
him to banishment, ever attempted to carry that 
sentence into execution ; for in another part of 
his narrative, written before his release from 
prison, he says, " I have lain there now com- 
plete twelve years, waiting to see what God 
would suffer these men to do with me." 

" And while he was suffering under this af- 
fliction, between cold stone walls, in a close 
confinement, his enemies abroad were labouring 
to press down and stifle his reputation with 
calumnies and reproaches. They not only 
reaped up what was true of his former wicked 
life, but added many grievous things to his 
charge that he was utterly innocent and igno- 
rant of." — Old Memoir. 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 191 



CHAPTER X. 

BUNYAN'S EXPERIENCE, TRIALS, AND CONSOLA- 
TIONS DURING HIS IMPRISONMENT. 

BuNYAN was not taken by surprise when he 
was called to suffer in the cause of Christ and 
his gospel. For more than a year before his 
commitment, the impression that "bonds and 
imprisonment," if nothing worse, awaited him, 
was so strong, that he could seldom go to prayer 
without having presented to his mind the apos- 
tolic petition, " to be strengthened with all might, 
according to His glorious power, unto all pa- 
tience and long-suffering with joyfulness." 

He endeavoured so to discipline his heart, as 
that he might, through grace, be prepared for, 
and enabled to endure, the worst that could be- 
fall him. He reasoned thus with himself: — 
" If I provide only for a prison, then the whip 
comes at unawares ; and so doth also the pillory. 
Again, if I only provide for these, then I am 
not fit for banishment. Further, if I conclude 
that banishment is the worst, then if death come 
I am surprised." He sought therefore to fami- 
liarize his mind to these things ; to become 
more dead to the worldy^*' and to live upon God 




192 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

that is invisible ; as Paul saith the way not to 
faint is, to ' look not at the things that are seen, 
but at the things that are not seen.' " 

The following passages, written near the 
close of his confinement, show that he was so 
sustained by divine grace as not only to bear up 
under his afflictions, but also ofttimes so to mount 
above them, that, with the apostle, he could 
even " glory in tribulations," Rom. v, 7. 

He says, " In this condition I have continued 
with much content, through grace ; but have met 
with many turnings and goings upon my heart, 
both from the Lord, from Satan, and my own 
corruptions ; by all which, glory be to Jesus 
Christ, I have also received, among many things, 
much conviction, instruction, and understanding; 
of which at large I shall not here discourse, only 
give you a hint or two — a word that may stir up 
the godly to bless God and to pray for me, and also 
to take encouragement, should the case be their 
own, not to fear what man can do unto them. 

" I never had, in all my life, so great an inlet 
into the word of God as now. Scriptures that 
I saw nothing in before are made, in this place 
and state, to shine upon me. Jesus Christ also 
was never more real and apparent than now. 
Here 1 have seen and felt him indeed. O that 
word, 'We have not preached unto you cunning- 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 193 

ly-devised fables !' and that, — 'God raised Christ 
from the dead, and gave him glory, that your faith 
and hope might be in God,' were blessed words 
unto me in this my imprisoned condition. 

" These three or four scriptures also have 
been great refreshments in this condition to me : 
John xiv, 1-4 ; xvi, 33 ; Col. iii, 3, 4 ; Heb. 
xii, 22-24 ; so that sometimes, when I have 
been in the savour of them, I have been able to 
* laugh at destruction, and to fear neither the 
horse nor his rider.' I have sweet sights of the 
forgiveness of my sins, and of my being with Je- 
sus in another world. O ! the ' Mount Zion — the 
heavenly Jerusalem — the innumerable company 
of angels — and God, the Judge of all — and the 
spirits of just men made perfect — and Jesus,' 
have been made sweet unto me in this place. I 
have seen that here, that I am persuaded I shall 
never, while in this world, be able to express. 

" I never knew what it was for God to stand 
by me at all turns, and at every offer of Satan 
to afflict me, (fee, as I have found since I came 
in hither : for look, how fears have presented 
themselves, so have supports and encourage- 
ments ; yea, when I have started, even as it 
were at nothing else but my shadow, yet God, 
as being very tender of me, hath not suffered me 
to be molested, but would, with one scripture or 

13 



194 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

another, strengthen me against all; insomuch 
that I have often said, Were it lawful, I could 
pray for greater trouble, for the greater comfort's 
sake. . 'For as the sufferings of Christ abound in 
us, so our consolation also aboundeth in Christ.'" 

But the condition of his family at this time 
awakened his tenderest sympathies ; and the 
thought of their destitution, and particularly of 
the hardships to which he feared his blind 
daughter might be exposed, caused him many 
a bitter pang ; for he was, as one who knew 
him testifies, "both a loving and tender hus- 
band, and an indulgent parent, perhaps some- 
what to a fault." Few passages, even in Bun- 
yan, are more touchingly eloquent than that in 
which he gives utterance to the feelings of his 
heart on this subject. He has just been speak- 
ing of his spiritual consolation and supports 
during his imprisonment, and then adds, — 

" But notwithstanding these helps, I found 
myself a man encompassed with infirmities. 
The parting with my wife and poor children 
hath often been to me, in this place, as the 
pulling the flesh from the bones ; and that not 
only because I am somewhat too fond of these 
great mercies, but also because I should have 
often brought to my mind the many hardships, 
miseries, and wants that my poor family was 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 195 

like to meet with, should I be taken from them, 
especially my poor blind child, who lay nearer 
my heart than all beside. ! the thoughts of 
the hardship I thought my poor blind one might 
go under, would break my heart to pieces. Poor 
child ! thought I, M^hat sorrow art thou like to 
have for thy portion in this world ! Thou must 
be beaten, must beg, suffer hunger, cold, naked- 
ness, and a thousand calamities, though I can- 
not now endure the wind should blow upon thee. 
But yet recalling myself, thought I, I must ven- 
ture you all with God, though it goeth to the 
quick to leave you. O ! I saw in this condition 
I was as a man who was pulling down his house 
upon the head of his wife and children ; yet, 
thought I, I must do it, I must do it : and now 
I thought on those two milch kine that were to 
carry the ark of God into another country, and 
to leave their calves behind them." 1 Sam. iv, 10. 
His knowledge of Scripture furnished him 
not only with an apt comparison of his affliction, 
but also with two precious promises, which 
he says were a great help to him in this trial : 
the first was Jer. xlix, 11, "Leave thy father- 
less children, I will preserve them alive ; and 
let thy widows trust in me." The other was 
Jer. XV, 11, " The Lord said, Verily it shall go 
well with thy remnant, verily I will cause the 



196 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

enemy to entreat thee well in the time of evil, 
and in time of affliction." He also derived much 
support from the consideration, that by ventur- 
ing all for God, he engaged God to " take care 
of his concernments ;" and he counted that they 
were quite as safe in his keeping as if he had 
them in his own hands. 

The following passage doubtless relates to 
one of the " turnings and goings upon his heart," 
to which allusion has been made in a former 
paragraph : — " I will tell you a pretty business. 
I was once, above all the rest, in a very sad and 
low condition for many weeks ; at which time 
also I, being a young prisoner, and not acquaint- 
ed with the laws, had this lain much upon my 
spirits, — that my imprisonment might end at the 
gallows, for all that I could tell. Now there- 
fore Satan laid hard at me, to beat me out of 
heart, by suggesting thus unto me : ' But how 
if, when you come indeed to die, you should be 
in this condition ; that is, as not to savour the 
things of God, nor to have any evidence upon 
your soul for a better state hereafter?' (for at that 
time all the things of God were hid from my soul.) 

" Wherefore, when I at first began to think 
of this, it was a great trouble to me ; for I thought 
with myself, that in the condition I now was, I 
was not fit to die ; neither indeed did I think I 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 197 

could, if I should be called to it. Besides, I 
thought with myself, if I should make a scramh- 
ling shift to clamber up the ladder, yet I should, 
either with quaking or other symptoms of faint- 
ing, give occasion to the enemy to reproach the 
way of God, and his people for their timorous- 
ness. This therefore lay with great trouble 
upon me ; for methought I was ashamed to die 
with a pale face and tottering knees, in such a 
cause as this. Wherefore I prayed to God, that 
he would comfort me, and give me strength to 
do and suffer what he should call me to. Yet 
no comfort appeared, but all continued hid. 

" I was also at this time so really possessed 
with the thought of death, that oft I was as if 
on the ladder, with a rope about my neck : only 
this was some encouragement to me, — I thought 
I might now have an opportunity to speak my 
last words to a multitude which I thought would 
come to see me die ; and, thought I , if it must be so, 
if God will but convert one soul by my last words, 
I shall not count my life thrown away nor lost. 

" But yet all the things of God were kept out 
of my sight, and still the tempter followed me 
with, ' But whither must you go when you die 1 
What will become of you ? Where will you be 
found in another world ? What evidence have 
you for heaven and glory, and an inheritance 



198 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

among them that are sanctified?' Thus was I 
tossed for many weeks, and knew not what to do. 
At last this consideration fell with weight upon 
me, ' That it was for the word and way of God 
that I was in this condition ; wherefore I was 
engaged not to flinch an hair's breadth from it.' 

" I thought also, that God might choose whe- 
ther he would give me comfort now, or at the 
hour of death ; but I might not therefore choose 
whether I would hold my profession or no. I 
was hound, but he was free : yea, it was my 
duty to stand to his word, whether he would • 
ever look upon me, or save me at the last : 
wherefore, thought I, the point being thus, I am 
for going on, and venturing my eternal state 
with Christ, whether I have comfort here or no. 
If God doth not come in, thought I, I will leap 
off the ladder, even blindfold, into eternity, — 
sink or swim, — come heaven, come hell : Lord 
Jesus, if thou wilt catch me, do ; if not, I will 
venture for thy name. 

" I was no sooner fixed upon this resolution, 
but the word dropped upon me, ' Doth Job serve 
God for naught?' as if the accuser had said, 
* Lord, Job is no upright man ; he serves thee 
for by-respects : hast thou not made an hedge 
about him ? But put forth now thine hand, and 
touch all that he hath, and he will curse thee to 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 199 

thy face.' Job i, 9-11. How now, thought I ; 
is this the sign of a renewed soul, to desire to 
serve God when all is taken from him ? Is he 
a godly man that will serve God for nothing, 
rather than give out ? Blessed be God, then, I 
hope / have an upright heart ; for I am resolved, 
God giving me strength, never to deny my pro- 
fession, though I have nothing for my pains. . . . 
Now was my heart full of comfort, for I hoped 
it was sincere. I would not have been without 
this trial for much : I am comforted every time 
I think of it ; and I hope I shall bless God for 
ever for the teaching I have had by it." 

Under the title of " Prison Meditations, dedi- 
cated to the heart of suffering saints and reign- 
ing sinners," Bunyan set forth in rhyme the joys 
of those who suffer for righteousness' sake. 
The poem contains seventy stanzas in all ; but 
the following will suffice for a specimen : — 

" I am indeed in prison now 
In body, but my mind 
Is free to follow Christ, and here 
Unto me he is kind. 

For though men keep my outward man 

Within their locks and bars, 
Yet by the faith of Christ I can 

Mount higher than the stars. 

Their fetters cannot spirits tame, 
Nor tie up God from me ; 



200 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

My faith and hope they cannot lame, 
Above them I shall be. 

I here am very much refresh'd, 

To think, when I was out, 
I preached life, and peace, and rest, 

To sinners round about. 

The prison very sweet to me 

Hath been since I came here ; 
And so would also hanging be, 

If God would there appear. 

This jail to us is as a hill, 

From whence we plainly see 
Beyond this world, and take our fill 

Of things that lasting be. 

Consider, man, what I have said, 

And judge of things aright ; 
When all men's cards are fully play'd. 

Whose will abide the light ? 

Will those who have us hither cast ? 

Or those who do us scorn ? 
Or those who do our houses waste 1 

Or us who have this borne ? 

And let us count those things the best, 

That best will prove at last ; 
And count such men the only blest, 

That do such things hold fast." 

It is readily granted that there is much more 
truth than poetry in these lines. Indeed Bun- 
yan, though he loved to rhyme, is never less 
poetical than when he attempts to give his 
thoughts the form of poetry. 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 201 



CHAPTER XL 

BUNYAN'S EMPLOYMENTS AND STUDIES DURING 
HIS IMPRISONMENT. 

The rigour of Bunyan's confinement appears to 
have continued about seven years. In the early 
part of his imprisonment, as the reader will re- 
member, he was, through the kindness of his 
jailer, permitted to be often at large, so that he 
frequently attended the private meetings of the 
society at Bedford. He was there in July, 1 661 , 
but from that time to August, 1668, his name is 
not found on their minutes, nor is it known that 
during that whole period he was ever allowed 
to pass the threshold of the prison. 

But though closely confined, it does not ap- 
pear that he was denied the visits of his family 
and friends. One of his early biographers says, 
" It was by making him a visit in prison that I 
first saw him, and became acquainted with him ; 
and I must confess, I could not but look upon 
him to be a man of an excellent spirit, zealous 
for his Master's honour, and cheerfully commit- 
ting all his own concernments unto God's dis- 
posal. . . . Nor did he, while he was in prison, 
spend his time in a supine or careless manner, 



202 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

or eat the bread of idleness ; for there I have 
been witness, that his own hands have minis- 
tered to his and to his family's necessities, by- 
making many hundred gross of long tagged 
thread laces, to fill up the vacancies of his time, 
which he had learned for that purpose, since he 
had been in prison," He was thus, notwith- 
standing the severities he endured, enabled to 
contribute something to the support of those 
whom he loved. What was lacking was doubt- 
less supplied by the charity of Christian friends. || 

He was not even now without opportunities 
for exercising his ministerial gifts. If he was 
in confinement, "the word of God was not 
bound." Although he was the first in that part 
of the country to be shut up for nonconformity, 
yet it was not long before he was favoured with 
the society of some who were suffering in the 
same cause. Among these were two Baptist 
preachers, Messrs. Wheeler and Dunn, with 
whom Bunyan took his turn in expounding the 
Scriptures to his fellow-prisoners. " What an 
alleviation to the sorrows of the people," ob- 
serves Mr. Ivimey, " that they had such minis- 
ters to preach to them ! and what pleasure must 
it have been to these, that they had such godly 
people to preach to, who would rather suffer 
than sin !" The writer mentioned in the pre- 



fl 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 203 

ceding page as visiting Bunyan in his confine- 
ment says, " When I was there, above three- 
score dissenters were in the prison besides him- 
self, taken but a little before at a religious meet- 
ing at Kaistow, in the county of Bedford ; be- 
sides two eminent dissenting ministers ; by 
which means the prison was much crowded- 
Yet in the midst of all that hurry which so many 
new comers occasioned, I have heard Mr. Bun- 
yan both preach and pray with that mighty spi- 
rit of faith, and plethora of divine assistance, 
that has made me stand and wonder." 

He would sometimes be visited in prison by 
those who sought to him for counsel. He gives 
an instance of this in his Life and Death of Mr. 
Badman : — " When I was in prison there came 
a woman to me that was under a great deal of 
trouble ; so I asked her, she being a stranger to 
me, what she had to say to me. She said she 
was afraid she should be damned. I asked her 
the cause of those fears. She told me that she 
had some time since lived with a shopkeeper at 
Wellingborough, and had robbed his box in the 
shop, several times, of money, to the value of 
more than now I will say: ' and pray,' says she, 
' tell we what I shall do ? ' I told her I would 
have her go to her master, and make him satis- 
faction. She said she was afraid. I asked her 



204 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 



why? She said she doubted he would hang] 
her. I told her that I would intercede for her] 
life, and would make use of other friends too, 
and do the like ; but she told me she durst not 
venture that. ' Well,' said I, ' shall I send to 
your master, while you abide out of sight, andJl 
make your peace with him before he sees you?' 
and with that I asked her master's name. But 
all that she said in answer to this was, ' Pray 
let it alone till I come to you again.' So away 
she went, and neither told me her master's-name 
nor her own. This is about ten or twelve years 
since, and I never saw her again." 

An anecdote is also related of a Quaker wh 
called to see him, not long before his release 
hoping perhaps to make a convert of the pilgrim. 
He thus addressed him : " Friend John, I am 
come to thee with a message from the Lord, 
and after searching in all the prisons in Eng- 
land, I am glad I have found thee at last." 
" Friend," replied Bunyan, " thou dost not speak 
truth in saying the Lord sent thee to seek me ; 
for the Lord knows I have been in Bedford jail 
these twelve years, and if he had sent thee, h© 
would have sent thee here directly." 

Bunyan's books and his pen doubtless occu- 
pied most of his leisure hours, and served to 
relieve the tedium of his confinement. Of the 



I 



4 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 205 

former his collection was remarkably select, 
consisting most of the time of two books only, 
— the Bible, and the Book of Martyrs. This, 
however, was doubtless the result of choice ra- 
ther than of necessity. His copy of the Book 
of Martyrs is still in existence : it is of the edi- 
tion of 1641, and is printed in black letter, in 
three folio volumes. He has written his name 
in a stout print-hand on the title-page of each 
volume. One of these autographs (a fac-simile 
of which is given on the next page) is dated 
1662, and must therefore have been written 
during his imprisonment. Under several of the 
prints he has inserted some doggerel rhymes, 
which must have been among his first attempts 
in that way. Miserable as they are, " he no 
doubt," says Dr. Southey, " found difficulty 
enough in tinkering them to make him proud 
of his work when it was done ; for otherwise 
he would not have written them in a book 
which was the most valuable of all his goods 
and chattels." We give two of the verses, with 
a fac-simile of one, which will serve as speci- 
mens of Bunyan's orthography and penmanship 
in early life, for they must undoubtedly, as Dr. 
Southey remarks, have been written some years 
before the autograph of 1662, if not before 
the publication of his first tract. 



206 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 



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LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 207 

The first was inserted under a print entitled, 
" The Description of the Popes Councell holden 
at Rome, in which appeared a monstrous Owle, 
to the utter defacing of the Pope and all his 
Clergie." See the note on page 331. 
" Doth the owle to them apper 
Which put them all into a fear 
Will not the man and trubel crown 
Cast the owle into the ground." 

The following was written under a -print re- 
presenting the martyrdom of Thomas Hawkes, 
who, having promised his friends to lift up his 
hands before he died, in token that his mind 
was kept in peace, after his speech was gone, 
raised his scorched arms in triumph toward 
heaven. / 

" hear is one stout and strong in deed ' 
he doth not waver like as doth a re0d, 
a Sighn he give them yea last of all^ 
that are obedant to the hevenly call." ^ 

Justice to Bunyan, however, requires us to 
remark here, that he lived " before the age of 
spelling-books," and that in his day persons of 
the highest distinction might be found whose 
orthography was quite as loose as his.* 

* The following literal extract from a letter, written in 
1700, by the celebrated Lady Rachel Russell, will sub- 
stantiate this remark. She is giving an account of the 
damages occasioned by a storm. ** hampshire is al deso- 



208 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

Some of Bunyan's best works, including the 
first part of the Pilgrim's Progress, were among 
the fruits of his imprisonment ; so that that 
event, in the providence of God, " fell out rather 
to the furtherance of the gospel ;" for though by 
it he was for a few years debarred the public 
exercise of his ministry, yet by means of these 
books he has continued to preach, and preach 
effectively too, to countless thousands, for now 
more than one hundred and fifty years, and will 
doubtless continue to do so to the end of time. 
No thanks, however, are due to his persecutors 
for this result. They " meant not so, neither 
did their heart think so.'- 

It was doubtless to this legacy to the church 
that Bunyan refers in the following passage, 
where, in one of his happiest appropriations of 
Scripture language, he applies to his own case 
the words of the sacred writer in recording 
David's contributions toward the building of the 
temple. 1 Chron. xxvi, 27. It occurs at the 
close of his Brief Account of his Imprisonment. 
" Many more of the dealings of God toward me 

lation. devon-honse scapet better than any house I 
heare of. Many kiled in country as wel as in towne. 
Lady penelope wickless kiled in her bed at ther country 
house, and he in y^ sam bed saved, a piece of timber 
faling betweene his legs, and keept of ye bricks." 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 209 

I might relate, but these out of the spoils won in 
battle have I dedicated to maintain the house of 
God." These "spoils," remarks Mr. Philip, 
happily remain for the use of the church. 

For how many of Bunyan's works We are 
indebted to his imprisonment, it is difficult to 
determine, as some which he wrote during that 
period were not published till some years after 
his release. Concerning the following, how- 
ever, there is no doubt : — Sighs from Hell ; or 
the Groans of a damned Soul — The Two Cove- 
nants : Law and Grace — Discourse on Prayer 
— A Map of Salvation, &c. — One Thing is Need- 
ful ; or Serious Meditations upon the Four Last 
Things — Ebaland Gerizim; or the Blessing and 
the Curse — Prison Meditations — The Holy City; 
or the New Jerusalem — The Resurrection of 
the Dead, and eternal Judgment — Grace abound- 
ing to the Chief of Sinners — Defence of the 
Doctrine of Justification, against Bp. Fowler — 
A Confession of my Faith, and a Reason of my 
Practice — The Pilgrim's Progress : Part L 

In the Address to the Reader, prefixed to 
the first-mentioned of the above works, the au- 
thor thus alludes to his persecutions : — " Friend, 
if thou dost love me, pray for me, that my God 
would not forsake me, nor take his Holy Spirit 

from me ; and that God would fit me to do and 

14 



210 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

suffer what shall be from the world or devil in- ij 
flicted upon me. I must tell thee, the world " 
rages ; they stamp, and shake their heads ; and 
fain they would be doing. The Lord help me 
to take all they shall do with patience ; and 
when they smite the one cheek, to turn the 
other to them, that I may do as Christ hath 
bidden me ; for then the Spirit of God and of 
glory shall rest upon me." 

One of the old lives of Bunyan states that 
another work, entitled, " Christian Behaviour, 
being the Fruits of true Christianity," was writ- 
ten during his confinement: and to the same 
period (though it was not published till 1675) 
we think must be referred the authorship of his 
"Instructions for the Ignorant;" for in dedicat- 
ing it " To the Church of Christ in and about 
Bedford," he speaks of his being " driven from 
them in presence, not in affection ;" and sub- 
scribes himself, "Yours, to serve you by my 
ministry {when I can) to your edification," &c. 
Mr. Philip also gives some plausible reasons 
for supposing the " Divine Emblems " to have 
been one of his prison labours. 

His " Grace abounding to the Chief of Sin- 
ners," was written and published for the edifi- 
cation and encouragement of his spiritual chil- 
dren. Having already given our readers the 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 211 

substance of this narrative, we here append the 
dedicatory preface, which may be regarded as 
a kind of pastoral letter. It is addressed 

" To those whom God hath counted me worthy 
to beget to Faith by my Ministry in the Word. 

" Children, — Grace be with you. Amen. 
I being taken from you in presence, and so tied 
up that I cannot perform that duty that from God 
doth lie upon me to you-ward, for your further 
edifying and building up in faith and holiness, 
&c. ; yet that you may see my soul hath fatherly 
care and desire after your spiritual and everlast- 
ing welfare, I now once again, as before from 
the top of Shenir and Hermon, so now from the 
lion's den, and from the mountain of the leo- 
pards, (Solomon's Song iv, 8,) do look yet after 
you all, greatly longing to see your safe arrival 
in the desired haven. 

" I thank God upon every remembrance of 
you ; and rejoice, even while I stick between 
the teeth of the lions in the wilderness, that the 
grace, and mercy, and knowledge of Christ our 
Saviour, which God hath bestowed upon you, 
with abundance of faith and love ; your hunger- 
ings and thirstings after further acquaintance 
with the Father, in the Son ; your tenderness 
of heart, your trembling at sin, your sober and 



212 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

holy deportment also, before both God and men, 
is a great refreshment to me ; for ' you are my 
glory and joy.' 1 Thess. ii, 20. 

" I have sent you here enclosed a drop of that 
honey that I have taken out of the carcass of 
a lion : (Judg. xiv, 5-8 :) I have eaten there- 
of myself, and am much refreshed thereby. 
(Temptations, when we meet them at first, are 
as the lion that roared upon Samson ; but if we 
overcome them, the next time we see them, we 
shall find a nest of honey within them.) The 
Philistines understand me not. It is something 
of a relation of the work of God upon my soul, 
even from the very first till now, wherein you 
may perceive my castings down and risings up : 
for he woundeth, and his hands make whole. 
It is written in the Scripture, ' The father to the 
children shall make known the truth of God,' 
Isa. xxxviii, 19. Yea, it was for this reason I 
lay so long at Sinai, ' to see the fire, and the 
cloud, and the darkness, that I might fear the 
Lord all the days of my life upon earth, and tell 
of his wondrous works to my children, which 
we have heard and known, and our fathers have 
told us. We will not hide them from our chil- 
dren, shewing to the generation to come the 
praises of the Lord, and his strength, and his 
wonderful works that he hath done. For he 



i, 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 213 

established a testimony in Jacob, and appointed a 
law in Israel, which he commanded our fathers 
that they should make them known unto their 
children.' Dent, iv, 10, 11; Psa. Ixxviii, 3-5. 

" Moses wrote of the journeyings of the chil- 
dren of Israel from Egypt to the land of Ca- 
naan ; (Num. xxxiii, 1,2;) and commanded also 
that they did remember their forty years' travel 
in the wilderness. Deut. viii, 1, 2. Wherefore 
this I have endeavoured to do ;"* and not only 
so, but to publish it also ; that, if God will, 
others may be put in remembrance of what he 
hath done for their souls, by reading of his work 
upon me. 

" It is profitable for Christians to be often 
calling to mind the very beginnings of grace 
with their souls. 'It is a night much to be 
observed unto the Lord, for bringing them out 
of the land of Egypt : this is that night of the 
Lord, to be observed of all the children of Is- 
rael in their generations.' Exod. xii, 42. ' O, my 
God,' saith David, ' my soul is cast down within 
me ; but I will remember thee from the land of 
Jordan, and of the Hermonites, from the hill 

* Does not Bunyan here allude to his own age ? He 
was but thirty-two years old at the beginning of his 
imprisonment, and therefore it is not improbable that 
he was about forty when he wrote his narrative. 



214 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 



Mizar.' Psa. xlii, 6. He remembered also the 
lion and the bear, when he went to fight with 
the giant of Gath. 1 Sam. xvii, 36, 37. 

" It was Paul's accustomed manner, and that 
when tried for his life, even to open before his 
judges the manner of his conversion. He would 
think of that day, and that hour, in which he 
first did meet with grace ; for he found it sup- 
ported him. When God had brought the chil- 
dren of Israel out of the Red Sea, far into the 
wilderness, yet they must turn quite about 
thither again, to remember the drowning of 
their enemies there ; (Num. xiv, 25 ;) for though 
they sang His praise before, they soon forgot 
his works. Psa. cvi, 12, 13. 

" In this discourse of mine you may see much; 
much, I say, of the grace of God toward me. I 
thank God, I can count it much, for it was above 
my sins, and Satan's temptations too. I can 
remember my fears, and doubts, and sad months, 
with comfort ; they are as the head of Goliah 
in my hand. There was nothing to David like 
Goliah's sword, even that sword that should have 
been sheathed in his bowels ; for the very sight 
and remembrance of that did preach forth God's 
deliverance to him. O ! the remembrance of 
my great sins, of my great temptations, and of 
my great fear of perishing for ever ! they bring 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 215 

afresh into my mind the remembrance of my 
great help, my great supports from heaven, and 
the great grace that God extended to such a 
wretch as I. 

" My dear children, call to mind the former 
days and years of ancient times : remember also 
your songs in the night, and commune with your 
own heart ; say, in times of distress, ' Will the 
Lord cast off for ever ? and will he be favoura- 
ble no more ? Is his mercy clean gone for ever ? 
Doth his promise fail for evermore ? Hath God 
forgotten to be gracious ? Hath he in anger shut 
up his tender mercies ? And I said, This is my 
infirmity ; but I will remember the years of the 
right hand of the Most High. I will remember 
the works of the Lord ; surely I will remember 
thy wonders of old. I will meditate also of all 
thy work, and talk of thy doings.' Psa. Ixxvii, 
5-12. Yea, look diligently, and leave no cor- 
ner therein unsearched, for that treasure hid, 
even the treasure of your first and second expe- 
rience of the grace of God toward you. Re- 
member your terrors of conscience, and fears 
of death and hell : remember also your tears 
and prayers to God ; yea, how you sighed under 
every hedge for mercy. Have you never a hill 
Mizar to remember ? Have you forgot the close, 
the milk house, the stable, the barn, and the 



216 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 



like, where God did visit your souls ? * Remem- 
ber also the word — the word, I say, upon which 
the Lord hath caused you to hope. If you have 
sinned against light ; if you are tempted to blas- 
pheme ; if you are drowned in despair ; if you 
think God fights against you ; or if heaven is 
hid from your eyes ; remember it was thus with 
your father ; ' but out of them all the Lord deli- 
vered me.' 

" I could have enlarged much, in this my dis- 
course, of my temptations and troubles for sin ; 
as also of the merciful kindness and working of 
God with my soul. I could also have stepped 
into a style much higher than this in which I 
have here discoursed, and could have adorned 
all things more than here I have seemed to do, 
but I dare not : God did not play in tempting 
of me ; neither did I play when I sunk as into 
the bottomless pit, when the angels of hell caught 
hold upon me ; wherefore I may not play in re- 
lating of them, but be plain and simple, and lay 
down the thing as it was : he that liketh it, let 
him receive it ; and he that doth not, let him 
produce a better. Farewell. 

" My dear children, the milk and honey are 
beyond this wilderness. God be merciful to 

* He is here probably alluding to various places in 
which he had met with them for worship. See p. 150. 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 217 

you, and grant that you be not slothful to go in 
to possess the land. j^^^ Bunyan." 

Such has been the popularity of " Grace 
Abounding," that when Mr. Ivimey wrote, (in 
1809,) fifty editions of it had been published, 
and perhaps nearly as many more have been 
issued since that time. " The very extreme 
plainness of the work adds to its power. Ne- 
ver was the inward life of any being depicted 
with more vehement and burning language : it 
is an intensely vivid description of the workings 
of a mind of the keenest sensibility and most 
fervid imagination, convinced of its guilt, and 
fully awake to all the dread realities of eternity. 
In this work we behold not only the general 
discipline by which Bunyan attained that spi- 
ritual wisdom and experience exhibited in the 
Pilgrim's Progress, but there are particular pas- 
sages of it in which we see the evident germs 
of that work of genius." — N. A. Review. 

The Pilgrim's Progress was the crowning 
piece of Bunyan's prison labours. In the open- 
ing sentence he at once informs the reader 
where it was conceived and executed : — " As I 
walked through the wilderness of this world, I 
lighted on a certain place where was a den, and 
laid me down in that place to sleep ; and, as I 



218 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

slept, I dreamed a dream." This " den," as 
he tells us in the margin, was " the jail." 

The composition of this work was probably 
one of his greatest enjoyments during his im- 
prisonment. " It was the only one of his joys 
which he allowed neither stranger nor friend to 
intermeddle with. He kept it ' a fountain seal- 
ed,' from all his family and fellow-prisoners, 
until it was completed. Dunn, or Wheeler, or 
any other companion, might hear a page, or ob- 
tain a peep, of any of his other works, while 
they were planning or in progress ; but the Pil- 
grim was for no eye nor ear but his own, until 
he ' awoke out of his dream.' He never once, 
during all that dream, ' talked in his sleep.' " 
This fact we have never seen noticed by any 
writer but Mr. Philip, (from whom we have 
taken the preceding quotation,) although Bun- 
yan himself has strongly stated it in his preface, 
where he says, — 

" Matter and manner too were all my own, 
Nor was it unto any mortal known, 
Till I had done it." 

To the world he did not tell his dream till some 
years after his release ; we will therefore post- 
pone any further remarks upon it until we arrive 
at the period of its publication. 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 219 



CHAPTER XII. 

LAST YEARS OF HIS IMPRISONMENT: ELECTION 
TO THE pastorship: his RELEASE. 

The Strictness of Bunyan's confinement appears 
to have been considerably abated during the last 
four years of its continuance ; for in 1669, 1670, 
and 1671, he was regularly present at the church 
meetings, as appears from the records, which 
also contain three appointments for him to visit 
disorderly members, in 16'68. This liberty must 
doubtless, as in the former instance, be ascribed 
to the friendship of the jailer ; for the spirit of 
persecution was then raging more strongly than 
ever. The " Conventicle Act," which had ex- 
pired some time before, was, in October, 1669, 
re-enacted, with additional clauses, rendering it 
much more severe ; and in 1670 it received the 
royal assent. This abominable Act, which was 
first passed in 1663, provided, " That every per- 
son above sixteen years of age, present at any 
meeting, under pretence of any exercise of reli- 
gion, in other manner than is the practice of the 
Church of England, where there are five per- 
sons more than the household, shall, for the first 
offence, by a justice of peace be recorded, and 



/ 



1 



220 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN, 

sent to jail three months, or pay £5 ; and for 
the second offence, six months, or pay jCIO; 
and for the third time, being convicte'd by a jury, 
shall be banished to some of the American plan- 
tations, except New-England or Virginia, for 
seven years, or pay £100 ; and in case such a 
person return, or make his escape, he is to be 
adjudged a felon, ajid. suffer death without benefit 
of clergy.'''' It was a great hardship attending 
this Act, that it gave a justice the power to con- 
vict a person without jury ; for if the convicted 
person was innocent, there was no relief to be 
obtained, the justice being both judge and jury.* 
It was also rendered more grievous from its 
ambiguity. " No man that ever I met with," 
says Baxter, " could tell what was a violation 
of it, and what not, not knowing what was al- 
lowed by the Liturgy and practice of the Church 
of England in families, because the Liturgy 
meddleth not with families ; and among the di- 
versity of family practice, no man knoweth what 
to call the practice of the Church. According 
to the plain words of the Act, if a man did but 
preach and pray, or read some licensed book, 
and sing psalms, he might have more than four 
present, because these are allowed by the prac- 
tice of the Church in the church ; and the Act 
* Slate's Memoirs of Oliver Heywood, 8vo., p. 107. 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 321 

seemeth to grant an indulgence for place and 
number, so be it the quality of the exercise be 
allowed by the Church. But when it came to 
the trial, these pleas with the justices were in 
vain ; (for if men did but pray, it was taken for 
granted that it was an exercise not allowed by 
the Church of England, and to jail they went.) . . 
The people were in a great strait, those espe- 
cially who dwelt near any busy officer, or mali- 
cious enemy. Many durst not pray in their 
families, if above four persons came in to dine 
with them, . . . and some scarce durst crave a 
blessing on their meat, or give God thanks for 
it. Some thought they might venture, if they 
withdrew into another room, and left the strangers 
by themselves ; but others said, it is all one if 
it be in the same house, though out of hearing, 
when it cometh to the judgment of the justices. 
. . . Great lawyers said, if you come on a visit 
of business, though you be present at prayer or 
sermon, it is no breach of the law, because you 
met not on pretence of a religious exercise : but 
those that tried them said, such words are but 
wind, when the justices come to judge you." * In 
the new Act it was provided that all doubtful 
clauses should be interpreted in the sense most 
unfavourable to conventicles, (as all places of 
* Orrae's Life of Baxter, vol. i, pp. 221, 222. 



222 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

worship not belonging to the established Church 
were then called,) it being the intention of par- 
liament " entirely to suppress them." 

The enforcement of this Act was, in many 
places, the cause of much suffering to the pious 
nonconformists. Among others, Bunyan's reli- 
gious friends at Bedford came in for their share ; 
and several of them had their goods distrained 
to pay the fines imposed upon them for worship- 
ping God according to the dictates of their own 
conscience. To the honour of the people of 
Bedford it should be mentioned, that they gave 
no countenance to this legalized plunder of their 
unoffending fellow-townsmen ; a church war- 
den and a constable were fined £5 each for 
refusing to aid in seizing goods ; and after the 
goods were taken, the regular porters could not 
be induced to carry them away, some of them 
saying, they " would be hung, drawn, and quar- 
tered, before they would assist in that work."* 

Forster, one of the justices by whom Bunyan 
was tried, appears to have been the prime agent, 
or ringleader, in this persecution of the Bedford 
congregation ; a circumstance which of itself 
renders it pretty certain that the measure of li- 
berty which Bunyan now enjoyed was owing 
entirely to the "favour" which God "gave him 

* A fuller account is given in Philip's Life of Bunyan. 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 22^ 

in the sight of the keeper of the prison." Of 
this liberty he availed himself to visit his Chris- 
tian friends, and no doubt encouraged them to 
" take joyfully the spoiling of their goods," ra- 
ther than " forsake the assembling of themselves, 
together." Indeed, had all the nonconformists 
of that age, both preachers and people, mani- 
fested the same determined spirit that was shown 
by Bunyan and his friends, and by the Quakers, 
the unrighteous enactments of a persecuting 
prelacy would have become a dead letter from 
sheer inability to enforce them.* 

In the eleventh year of his imprisonment he 
was elected one of the pastors of the congrega- 
tion at Bedford, as appears from the following 
extract from the "Booke" of records already 
referred to :— " On the 24th of August, 1671, 
the church were directed to seek to God about 

* In London " the Quakers were so resolute, and so 
gloried in their constancy and sufferings, that they as- 
sembled openly, near Aldersgate, and were dragged 
away daily to the common jail ; and yet desisted not, 
but the rest came the next day, nevertheless ; so that the 
jail at Newgate was filled with them. Abundance of 
them died in prison, and yet they continued their assem- 
blies still. They would sometimes meet only to sit in 
silence, when, as they said, the Spirit did not move them ; 
and it was a great question, whether this silence was a 
religious exercise not allowed by the Liturgy." — Baxter. 



224 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

the choice of brother Bunyan to the office of 
elder or co-pastor ; to which office he was call- 
ed on the 24th of the tenth month, in the same 
year, when he received of the elders the right 
hand of fellowship." Mr. Doe further informs 
us, that the pastor of the congregation dying, 
Bunyan was, on the 12th of December, 1671, 
chosen his successor, thus becoming the sole 
pastor. 

Mr. Ivimey expresses some surprise that Bun- 
yan should have been elected to this office while 
still in confinement ; but it should be remem- 
bered, that he now enjoyed considerable liberty, 
regularly attending all the private meetings of 
the church ; and it is not unlikely that at that 
time some steps were taken toward procuring 
his release, which appears to have been effected 
about a year afterward. 

Shortly after his ordination, Bunyan publish- 
ed " A Defence of the Doctrine of Justification 
by Jesus Christ," in reply to a treatise on " The 
Design of Christianity," by Dr. Fowler, who 
attributes justification to human merit. He did 
not get the doctor's book till the 1 3th of Novem- 
ber, 1671, yet he finished his refutation on the 
27th of the following month. At the close of it 
he says, " The points in controversy between 
us are (as I do heartily believe) fundamental 



f 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 225 

truths of the Christian religion. Let all men 
know, that I quarrel not with him about things 
wherein I dissent from the Church of England ; 
but do contend for the truth contained in these 
very Articles from which he hath so deeply 
revolted." 

Of this work Mr. Philip thus speaks : — " It is 
a very remarkable treatise on justification by 
faith ; and must have completed the confidence 
of the church in their choice of Bunyan to the 
pastorate. They had long known him as a 
good minister of Jesus Christ, and this proved 
him to be an able minister of the New Testa- 
ment." 

Fowler in reply got up a scurrilous pamphlet 
of seventy-eight pages, entitled, " Dirt Wip't 
off: or a manifest discovery of the gross igno- 
rance, erroneousness, and most unchristian and 
wicked spirit of John Bunyan, Lay Preacher in 
Bedford ; which he hath shown in a vile pamph- 
let." "This tirade," says Mr. Philip, "was 
published in 1672. It does not bear Fowler's 
name ; but pretends to be the work of an anon- 
ymous friend. And it may have been written 
by an amanuensis ; but, throughout, it is evi- 
dently the dictate of Fowler himself. I am 
compelled to say this, after many zealous efforts 
to remove the odium of vulgar scurrility from a 

15 



226 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 



scholar who reached the bench." Fowler was 
afterward made a bishop. 

Bunyan's next publication was entitled, "A 
Confession of my Faith, and a Reason of my 
Practice ; or with who, and who not, I can hold 
Church Fellowship, or the Communion of Saints : 
Shewing by divers Arguments, that though I 
dare not communicate with the open Profane, 
yet I can with those visible Saints that differ 
about Water Baptism ; wherein is also dis- 
coursed, whether that be the entering Ordinance 
into Fellowship or no." This was published 
in 1772. It is customary among the dissenters 
in England for preachers to make a confession 
of their faith when set apart to the work of the 
ministry. Whether the work just mentioned is 
the statement of his doctrine, given by Bunyan 
at his ordination, we cannot tell ; but, from its 
appearing so shortly after that event, it is highly 
probable that it is so. The latter part of it, 
which treats on the terms of communion, brought 
him into a controversy with some of his Bap- 
tist brethren, which we shall hereafter have 
occasion to notice. 

The precise period of Bunyan's liberation is 
uncertain. He was arrested in November, 1 660, 
and from all accounts he appears to have lain 
in prison a little more than twelve years : his 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 227 

release then probably took place somewhere in 
the early part of 1773.* His deliverance is 
attributed, by all cotemporary writers, to the 
interference of Dr. Barlow, bishop of Lincoln. 
One of them tells us that " Dr. Barlow and other 
Churchmen" pitied "his hard and unreasonable 
sufferings so far as to stand very much his friends, 
in procuring his enlargement." Another says, 

* In his " Brief Account" of his imprisonment, he says, 
" Being delivered up into the jailer's hands, I was had 
home to prison, and there have lain now complete twelve 
years, waiting to see what God would suffer these men 
to do with me." When he wrote this he was still in 
confinement. Some time in 1672 his church held a day 
of thanksgiving for " present liberty." One of his biogra- 
phers erroneously supposes this to have been on the ac- 
count of Bunyan's liberation ; but it was too early for 
that : it was probably occasioned by the royal proclama- 
tion, issued on the 15th of March, 1672, declaring "that 
his majesty, by virtue of his supreme power in matters ec- 
clesiastical, suspends all penal laws thereabouts, and that 
he will grant a convenient number of public meeting-places 
to men of all sorts that conform not. Provided the per- 
sons are approved by him ; that they only meet in places 
sanctioned by him, with open doors, and do not preach 
seditiously, nor against the Church of England." The 
real object of this was not to benefit the Protestant non- 
conformists, but to secure liberty to the Roman Catho- 
lics, whom the king greatly favoured : but the indulgence 
which it allowed did not long continue, for in the follow- 
ing February parliament voted the proclamation illegal. 



228 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

" After this blessed man had suffered twelve 
years' imprisonment for the testimony of a good 
conscience, and stopped the mouths of his 
greatest enemies by his holy, harmless, and 
inoffensive conversation, it pleased the Lord to 
stir up the heart of Dr. Barlow, bishop of Lin- 
coln, to be a means of his deliverance ; which 
I mention to the bishop's honour." A third in- 
forms us that Bunyan, " as a hearty acknow- 
ledgment" of the bishop's services, "returned 
him his unfeigned thanks, and also often remem- 
bered him in his prayers, as next to God his 
deliverer." Mr. Ivimey attempts to show that 
Barlow has received much more credit in the 
matter than was due to him ; but the concurrent 
testimonies given above seem to make it certain 
that he had some agency in procuring Bun- 
yan's liberation. What he did, however, was 
done before he became bishop of Lincoln, which 
was not till two or three years after.* 

In what manner this was effected is not 
known. It was certainly not the result of any 
submission on Bunyan's part ; for he preached 

* In his edition of the Pilgrim's Progress, recently 
published, Mr, Philip says, " Bunyan's liberation from 
prison was obtained from Charles II., by Whitehead, 
the Quaker. This discovery was not made when I 
published his Life in 1839." What foundation there 
may be for the above statement we know not. 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 229 

and held meetings immediately after his release ; 
and in a work written but a few months before 
that event, he says, " I have not hitherto been 
so sordid as to stand to a doctrine, right or 
wrong; much less when so weighty an argu- 
ment as above eleven years' imprisonment is 
continually dogging of me to weigh and pause, 
and pause again, the grounds and foundations 
of those principles for which I thus have suf- 
fered ; but having not only at my trial asserted 
them, but also since, even all this tedious track 
of time, in cold blood, a thousand times, by the 
word of God, examined them, and found them 
good, I cannot, I dare not now revolt or deny 

the same, on pain of eternal damnation 

Excepting this one thing, for which I ought not 
to be rebuked, I shall, I trust, in despite of slan- 
der and falsehood, discover myself at all times 
a peaceable and obedient servant. But if no- 
thing will do, unless I make of my conscience 
a continual butchery and slaughter-shop, — un- 
less, putting out my own eyes, I commit me to 
the blind to lead me, as I doubt is desired by 
some, — I have determined, the almighty God 
being my help and shield, yet to suffer, if frail 
life should continue so long, even till the moss 
shall grow on mine eyebrows, rather than thus to 
violate my faith and principles." 



230 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

" Being now again at liberty, and having, 
through mercy, shaken off his bodily fetters, 
(for those upon his soul were broken before, by 
the abounding grace that filled his heart,) he 
went to visit those that had been a comfort to 
him in his tribulation, with a Christian-like ac- 
knowledgment of their kindness and charity ; 
giving encouragement by his example, if it hap- 
pened to be their hard haps to fall into affliction 
or trouble, then to suffer patiently for the sake 
of a good conscience, and for the love of God in 
Jesus Christ toward their souls." — Doe. 

Soon after his enlargement his congregation 
built him a church. The ground on which it 
stood was bought by subscription on the 11th 
of August, 1672. The original agreement for the 
ground is still preserved. " It is between J. RufF- 
head, shoemaker, and John Bunyan, brazier, both 
of Bedford, for £bO, lawful money." — Philip. 

In the following year his eldest son, Thomas, 
became a member of the society, and was no 
doubt received with rapture by his father to the 
church and table of the Lord. It is thus re- 
corded in the church book : — " The 6th of the 
eleventh month, 1673, Thomas Bunyan received 
into communion." 



% 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 231 



CHAPTER XIII. 

BUNYAN DEFENDS THE PRACTICE OF COMMUNING 
WITH ALL TRUE CHRISTIANS. 

To the Confession of Faith, which Bunyan 
published soon after his ordination, he appended 
what he called, " A Reason of my Practice ; or 
with who, and who not, I can hold Church Fel- 
lowship, or the Communion of Saints." It is 
well known to be the practice of the Baptists, 
in general, to admit none to their communion 
but those who are baptized in their sense of the 
term, that is, immersed on a profession of their 
faith; thus excluding all but the members of 
their own persuasion. The church at Bedford, 
as has already been stated, though composed 
chiefly of Baptists, was constituted on more 
liberal principles, requiring no other terms of 
communion than " a profession of faith in Christ, 
attended by holiness of life." This drew upon 
them considerable reproach from the strict-com- 
munion Baptists, which occasioned the publica- 
tion of the treatise just named. In it Bunyan, 
after stating that he cannot commune with any 
who " profess not faith and holiness," or whose 
conduct does not consist with such a profession, 



232 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

proceeds to vindicate the practice of the church 
of which he was now the pastor ; showing that 
it was their duty to hold communion with all 
that were " visible saints," whether they were 
baptized or not. Like other Baptists, he held 
infant baptism to be no baptism at all ; but then 
he maintained, that as on the one hand baptism 
did not make a person a Christian, so neither 
on the other did the want of it prevent him from 
being one. He says, " A failure in such a cir- 
cumstance as water doth not unchristian us, . . . 
for thousands of thousands that could not con- 
sent thereto as we have, more glorious than we 
are like to do, acquitted themselves and their 
Christianity before men, and are now with the 
'innumerable company of angels and the spirits 
of just men made perfect.' What is said of eat- 
ing, or the contrary, ( Rom. xiv ; 1 Cor. viii,) 
may, as to this, be said of water baptism. Nei- 
ther if I be baptized am I the better ; neither if 
I be not am I the worse : not the better before 
God, not the worse before men ; still meaning 
as Paul doth, providing I walk according to my 
light with God ; (otherwise it is false ; for if a 
man that seeth it to be his duty shall despisingly 
neglect it, or if he that hath no faith thereih 
fehall foolishly take it up, both these are for this 
the wdrs6, beihg convicted in themselves fbr 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 233 

transgressors.) He therefore that doth it ac- 
cording to his light, doth well ; and he that doth 
it not, or dare not do it, for want of light, doth 
not ill ; for he approveth his heart to be sincere 
with God. ... If therefore he be not by grace 
a partaker of light in that circumstance which 
thou professest, yet he is a partaker of that 
liberty and mercy by which thou standest. He 
hath liberty to call God Father, as thou, and to 
believe he shall be saved by Jesus ; his faith, 
as thine, hath purified his heart ; he is tender 
of the glory of God, as thou art ; and can claim 
by grace an inheritance in heaven." On the 
ground therefore that the circumstances in which 
the Baptists differed from their brethren were 
such as " neither make nor mar Christianity," 
he urges, " Let us love one another, and walk 
together, leaving each other in all such circum- 
stances to our own Master, to our own faith. 
* Who art thou that judgest another man's ser- 
vant ? to his own master he standeth or falleth.' 
.... What greater contempt can be thrown 
upon the saints, than for their brethren to cast 
them off, or to debar them from church commu- 
nion ? . . . What can the church do more to the 
sinners, or open profane ? Civil commerce you 
will have with the worst, and what more will 
you have with these ? Perhaps you will say, 



234 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

' We can pray and preach with these, and hold 
them Christians, saints, and godly,' Well, but 
let me ask you one word further : Do you be- 
lieve that, of very conscience, they cannot con- 
sent, as you, to that of water baptism ; and that 
if they had light therein they would as willingly 
do it as you ? Why then, as I have shewed you, 
our refusal to hold communion with them is 
without a ground from the word of God. 

" But can you commit your soul to their min- 
istry, and join with them in prayer, and yet not 
count them meet for other gospel privileges ? I 
would know by what scripture you do it ? ... 
If thou canst hear them as God's ministers, and 
sit under their ministry as God's ordinance, then 
shew me where God hath such a gospel minis- 
try as that the person ministering may not, though 
desiring it, be admitted with you to the closest 
communion of saints."* 

* The inconsistency of churches refusing to commune 
with those whom they yet recognise as fellow-Christians, 
and even as Christian ministers, is strikingly exhibited in 
the following incident : — The Rev. Rowland Hill had 
been requested by a Baptist Church to preach for them 
on the occasion of a special collection being taken up. 
At the close of the service, it being communion Sunday, 
Mr. Hill sat down to partake with them. As the church 
practised what is called close communion, the officers 
felt themselves to be in rather an awkward situation ; but 
at length one of them went to Mr. Hill, and said, " Sir, 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 235 

A reply to this work was published by two 
Baptist preachers, named Paul and Kiffen, who 
found it much easier to revile their opponent 
than to answer his arguments. Bimyan imme- 
diately got up a rejoinder, entitled, " Differ- 
ences in Judgment about Water Baptism no Bar 
to Communion," &c. In the preface he informs 
the reader that the discussion was not one of 
his seeking, but that he was compelled to en- 
gage in it in self-defence. He says, " I had not 
set pen to paper about this controversy, had we 
been let alone in our Christian communion. But 
being assaulted for more than sixteen years, 
wherein the brethren of the baptized way, as 
they had the opportunity, have sought to break 
us in pieces, merely because we are not, in their 
way, all baptized first ; I could not, I durst not, 
forbear to do a little, if it might be to settle the 
brethren, and to arm them against the attempts 
which also of late they began to revive upon us. 
That I deny the ordinance of baptism, or that I 
have placed one piece of an argument against 
it, though they feign it, is quite without colour 
of truth. All I say is, that the church of Christ 
hath not warrant to keep out of their communion 
the Christian that walketh according to his light 

you cannot sit at our table." "Indeed," replied he, " I 
thought it had been the Lord's table," 






236 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

with God. I will not make reflections upon 
those unhandsome brands that my brethren hav J 
laid upon me for this, as, I am a Machiavelian, 
a man devilish, proud, insolent, presumptuous, 
and the like ; neither will I say, as they, * The 
Lord rebuke thee ;' words fitter to be spoken to 
the devil than a brother. . . . What Mr. Kiffen 
hath done in the matter I forgive, and love him 
never the worse ; but must stand by my prin- 
ciples, because they are peaceable, godly, pro- 
fitable, and such as tend to the edification of my 
brother, and, as I believe, will be justified in 
the day of judgment." 

• He then goes on to point out their misrepre- 
sentations of his doctrine, and the irrelevancy 
of many of their arguments, vindicates further 
his own practice, and shows that theirs tends to 
produce dissensions and divisions among Chris- 
tians. One of them had afiirmed that gospel 
believers were known by water baptism, as gen- 
tlemen's servants were known by their livery. 
This comparison, replied Bunyan, " is fantasti- 
cal. Go but ten doors from where men have 
knowledge of you, and see how many of the 
world, or Christians, will know you by this 
goodly livery to be one that hath put on Christ. 
What ! known by water baptism to be one that 
hath put on Christ, as a gentleman's man i 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 237 

known to be his master's servant by the gay 
garment his master gave him I Away, fond man, 
you do quite forget the text : ' By this shall all 
men know that ye are my disciples, if ye love 

ONE ANOTHER.'" 

Mr. Paul, backed by several others, came 
again to the attack, more abusive than before. 
" They fell in might and main upon me," says 
Bunyan ; " some comparing me to the devil, 
others to a bedlam, others to a sot, and the like, 
for my seeking peace and truth among the god- 
ly." He wrote in reply his " Peaceable Prin- 
ciples and True ; or a brief answer to Mr. Dan- 
vers' and Mr. Paul's books, &c., where their 
Scriptureless motives are overthrown, and my 
peaceable principles still maintained." This 
seems to have been his last publication on this 
subject. Throughout the whole controversy he 
excelled his opponents as much in temper as in 
argument ; for though he is sometimes severe, 
he never exhibits anything like malice or per- 
sonal feeling. " Railing for railing," he says, 
*' I will not answer, though one of these op- 
posers (Mr. Dan by name) did tell me, that Mr. 
Paul's reply, when it came out, would suffi- 
ciently provoke me to so beastly a work : but 
what is the reason of his so writing, if not the 
peevishness of his own spirit, or the want of 



238 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

better matter ? This I thank God for, that some , 
of the brethren of this way are of late more mo- 
derate than formerly ; and that those that retain 
their former sourness still, are left by the bre- 
thren to the vinegar of their own spirits ; their 
brethren ingenuously confessing, that could those ll 
of their company bear it, they have liberty in 
their own souls to communicate with saints as 
saints, though they differ about water baptism. 
Well, God banish bitterness out of the churches, 
and pardon them that are maintainers of schisms l| 
and divisions among the godly. ' Behold, how "^ 
good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell , 

together in unity,' &c I was advised by || 

some, who considered the wise man's proverb, 
not to let Mr. Paul pass with all his bitter in- 
vectives ; but I considered that 'the wrath of _ 
man worketh not the righteousness of God ;' fl 
therefore I shall leave him to the censure and 
rebuke of the sober, where I doubt not but his 
unsavoury ways with me will be seasonably 
brought to his remembrance. Farewell." 

He then closes his work with the following 
singular subscription: — "I am thine to serve 
thee. Christian, so long as I can look out at these 
two eyes that have had so much dirt thrown at 
them by many. John Bunyan." 



I 



fi 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 239 



CHAPTER XIV. 

CHARACTER OF BIINYAN'S PREACHING, WITH 
EXTRACTS FROM HIS SERMONS. 

Bunyan's labours as a preacher were by no 
means confined to Bedford and its immediate 
vicinity. It was his custom, two or three times 
a year, to take an extensive tour in " the region 
round about;" and not a few of the Baptist 
Churches in Bedfordshire, and the adjoining 
counties of Cambridge, Hertford, Buckingham, 
and Northampton, trace their origin to his itine- 
rant labours. These periodical visitations oc- 
casioned some jeeringly to call him Bishop 
Bunyan ; but though applied to him in ridicule, 
he had a far more Scriptural right to this title 
than had many of the " downy doctors " by whom 
it was then borne. 

It appears too that from the period of his re- 
lease he paid an annual visit to London, and 
preached among the congregations of the non- 
conformists, where, as Doe tells us, " he used 
his talents to the great good-liking of his hear- 
ers ; and even some to whom he had been mis- 
represented, upon the account of his [want of] 
education, were convinced of his worth and 



240 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

knowledge in sacred things, as perceiving him 
to be a man of sound judgment, delivering him- 
self plainly and pow^erfully; insomuch that many 
who came spectators for novelty, rather than to 
be edified and improved, went away well satis- 
fied with what they heard ; and wondered, as 
the Jews did at our Lord, namely, Whence this 
man should have these things ; perhaps not con- 
sidering that God more immediately assists those 
that make it their business industriously and 
cheerfully to labour in his vineyard." 

His usual place of preaching, when in Lon- 
don, was a meeting-house in Zoar-street, South- 
wark,* which, however, so great was his repu- 
tation, would not contain half the people that 
came to hear him, if but a day's notice was 
given. His friend, Charles Doe, says, " I have 

* About the commencement of the present century, 
this meeting-house, after having been closed for twenty, 
one years, was converted into a wheelwright's shop, for 
which purpose it was still used so late as 1821, at which 
time, a person who visited it says, " A part of the gallery 
yet remains, with the same wooden pegs still sticking in 
its front which once held the uncouth hats of those whom 
the gallant cavaliers of a former period pointed out to 
public contempt under the designation of ' round heads,* 
and ' puritans.' ... A small portion of this edifice is em- 
ployed for the instruction of children. The entrance to 
this school once formed the side entrance to the meeting- 



i: 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 



241 



seen, by my computation, about twelve hundred 
persons to hear him at a morning lecture, on a 




house." It has since been pulled down. The pulpit, of 
which our engraving (copied from the London Mirror, 
vol. xxxvi) is an accurate representation, was removed to 
a chapel in Palace Yard, Lambeth, where it is preserved 
as a treasured relic of the extraordinary man who had so 
often expounded from it the word of life. 

16 



242 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

working day, in dark winter time. I also com- 11 
puted about three thousand that came to hear " 
him at a town's-end meeting-house ; so that half 
were fain to go back again for want of room : 
and then himself was fain at a back door to be 
pulled almost over the people to get up stairs to 
the pulpit." In the midst of all this popularity- 
he was humble and modest in his deportment ; 
and his conduct was as irreproachable as his 
manners were unassuming. 

The celebrated Dr. Owen, who appears to 
have been a personal friend of Bunyan's,* some- 
times formed one of his London auditors. It is 
said that the doctor being once asked by Charles 
II. why so learned a man as he was could sit 
and hear an illiterate tinker prate, replied, " May 
it please your majesty, could I possess the 
tinkers ability for preaching, I would most 
gladly relinquish all my learning." 

In giving account of Bunyan's call to the 
ministry, we briefly adverted to his qualifica- 
tions for this work : we purpose in this place 
to make some further remarks on the character 
and style of his pulpit exercises, illustrating them 
by some passages from his printed discourses. 

* Dr. Barlow is supposed to have been influenced 
by Dr. Owen, (who, it is said, had been his tutor,) to 
lend his aid in procuring Bunyan's release. 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 243 

His language is always plain and vigorous, 
free from everything like art or affectation. 
" His style," observes Dr. Southey, " is a home- 
spun, not a manufactured one. ... It is a clear 
stream of current English — the vernacular of 
his age ; sometimes indeed in its rusticity and 
coarseness, but always in its plainness and 
strength. To this natural style Bunyan is iri 
some degree beholden for his general popularity. 
His language is everywhere level to the most 
ignorant reader, and to the meanest capacity : 
there is a homely reality about it ; a nursery 
tale is not more intelligible, in its manner of 
relation, to a child." 

A striking characteristic of his discom'ses, 
and indeed of all his writings, is his wonderful 
command of Scripture phraseology. He had 
an extraordinary acquaintance with the letter 
of the Bible, and an. admirable facility in its use 
and application. Not a doctrine, warning, or 
exhortation, but at every turn he could illustrate 
or " clench it with a text." 

His preaching was eminently practical. What- 
ever sentiments he might hold about uncondi- 
tional election, effectual calling, and irresistible 
grace, he expected believers to show their faith 
by their works. His denunciations of fruitless 
professors must sometimes have made the ears 



244 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

of such to tingle. " What do they do in the 
vineyard ? let them work, or get them out ; the 

vineyard must have labourers in it God 

expecteth fruit ; God calleth for fruit ; yea, God 
will shortly come seeking fruit. Barren fig-tree, 
dost thou hear ? either bear fruit, or go out of 
the vineyard."* 

Much of the time in which he exercised his 
ministry was characterized by the abounding of 
ungodliness and profanity, fostered by the ex- 
ample of a licentious court, and unrebuked by 
a hireling state clergy. " Wickedness like a 
flood," says Bunyan, " is like to drown our Eng- 
lish world ; it begins already to be above the 
tops of the mountains ; it has almost swallowed 
up all ; our youth, our middle age, old age, and 
all, are almost carried away by this flood." 
This being the case, we cannot wonder that in 
his preaching he should so often, in the ears of 
the sleeping sinner, sound an alarm of the final 
perdition of ungodly men, when the wrath of the 

* The practical tone of his ministry so exasperated 
John Wildman, one of the members of the church, that 
he charged Bunyan with inducing wives to inform against 
their husbands. This charge the church investigated in 
1680, and found it such a wanton slander on Bunyan and 
the sisterhood, that they unanimously voted Wildman "an 
abominable liar," and dealt with him accordingly .-PAe7zp. 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 245 

Almighty shall be revealed against them in 
flaming fire, at the last day. " Sinner, awake ; 
yea, I say unto thee, awake ! Sin lieth at thy 
door, and God's axe lieth at thy root, and hell- 
fire is right underneath thee. I say again. 
Awake ! ' Every tree therefore that bringeth 
not forth good fruit is hewn down, and cast into 
the fire.' . . . Awake ! art yet asleep, poor sin- 
ner ? Let me set the trumpet to thine ear once 
again. The heavens will shortly be on a burn- 
ing flame ; the earth and the works thereof 
shall be burned up ; and then wicked men shall 
go into perdition. Dost thou hear this, sinner? 
Hark again ! the sweet morsels of sin will then 
be fled and gone, and the bitter, burning fruits 
of them only left. ... I will yet propound to 
thee God's ponderous question, and then for this 
time leave thee : ' Can thine heart endure, or 
can thine hands be strong, in the day that I 
shall deal with thee, saith the Lord V What 
sayest thou 1 wilt thou answer this question 
now ; or wilt thou take time to do it ; or wilt 
thou be desperate, and venture all ? And let me 
put this text in thine ear to keep it open ; and 
so the Lord have mercy upon thee : ' Upon the 
wicked shall the Lord rain snares, and fire, and 
brimstone, and an horrible tempest ; this shall be 
the portion of their cup.'" — The Strait Gate. 



246 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

The following appeals occur in his discourses 
on the " Jerusalem Sinner," Luke xxiv, 47 ; and 
the parable of the rich man and Lazarus. Luke 
xvi, 19-31. 

" Hast thou not reason ? Canst thou not so 
much as once soberly think of thy dying hour ? 
or of whither thy sinful life will drive thee then ? 
Hast thou no conscience ? or having one, is it 
rocked so fast asleep by sin, or made so weary 
by an unsuccessful calling upon thee, that it is 
laid down and cares for thee no more ? Poor 
man ! thy state is to be lamented. Hast no 
judgment ? Art not able to conclude that to be 
saved is better than to burn in hell ; and that 
eternal life, with God's favour, is better than 
temporal life in God's displeasure? Hast no 
affection but what is brutish ? what, none at all? 
no affection for the God that made thee ? none 
for his loving Son that has showed his love, and 
died for thee ? Is not heaven worth thy affec- 
tion ? O, poor man ! which is strongest, think- 
est thou, God or thee ? If thou art not able to 
overcome him, thou art a fool for standing out 
against him. ' It is a fearful thing to fall into 
the hands of the living God.' He will gripe 
hard ; his fist is stronger than a lion's paw ; 
take heed of him, he will be angry if you de- 
spise his Son ; and will you stand guilty in your 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 247 

trespasses, when he offereth you his grace and 
favour ?" 

" Consider thus with thyself : Would I be 
glad to have all, every one of my sins, to come 
in against me, to inflame the justice of God 
against me ? Would I be glad to be bound up 
in them, as the three children were bound in 
their clothes, and to be as really thrown into 
the fiery furnace of the wrath of almighty God, 
as they were into Nebuchadnezzar's fiery fur- 
nace ? Would I be glad to have all and every 
one of the ten commandments to discharge 
themselves against my soul, — the first saying, 
* Damn him, for he hath broken me ; ' the second 
saying, ' Damn him, for he hath broken me 1 ' &c. 
Consider how terrible this will be ; yea, more 
terrible than if thou shouldst have ten of the 
biggest pieces of ordnance in England to be 
discharged against thy body, thunder, thunder, 
one after another ! Nay, this would not be com- 
parable to the reports that the law (for the breach 
thereof) will give against thy soul ; for those 
can but kill the body, but these will keep both 
body and soul ; and that not for an hour, a day, 
a month, or a year, but they will condemn thee 
for ever. 

" Mark, it is for ever, for ever. It is into 
everlasting damnation, eternal destruction, eter- 



248 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

nal wrath and displeasure from God, eternal 
gnawings of conscience, eternal continuance 
with devils. ... If it were but for a time, even 
ten thousand years, there would be ground of 
comfort, and hopes of deliverance ; but here is 
thy misery, — this is thy stu.te for ever, here thou 
must be for ever. When thou lookest about thee, 
and seest what an innumerable company of 
howling devils thou art amongst, thou shalt 
think this again, — this is my portion for ever. 
When thou hast been in hell so many thousand 
years as there are stars in the firmament, or 
drops in the sea, or sands on the sea-shore, yet 
art thou to lie there for ever. ! this one word, 
EVER, how will it torment thy soul ! " 

" Consider and regard these things, and lay 
them to thy heart, before it be too late. ! I 
say, regard, regard, for hell is hot. God's hand 
is up ! The Law is resolved to discharge against 
thy soul ! The judgment day is at hand ! The 
graves are ready to fly open ! The trumpet is 
near the sounding ! The sentence will ere long 
be past, and then you and I cannot call time 
again." 

" Friends, 1 have given you but a short touch 
of the torments of hell. O ! I am set, I am set, 
and am not able to utter what my mind conceives 
of the torments of hell ! Yet this let me say to 



I 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 249 

thee, Accept of God's mercy through our Lord 
Jesus Christ, lest thou feel that with thy con- 
science which I cannot express with my tongue, 
and say, ' I am sorely tormented in this flame.' " 

Here is a counterpart to the above ; for Bun- 
yan delighted to encourage the people of God, 
as well as felt it his duty to " warn the wicked." 
He was a Barnabas as well as a Boanerges. 

" Consider what a happy state thou art in, 
that hast gotten the faith of the Lord Jesus into 
thy soul. (But be sure thou have it.) I say, 
how safe, how sure, how happy art thou ! For 
when others go to hell, thou must go to heaven ; 
when others go to the devil, thou must go to 
God ; when others go to prison, thou must be 
set at liberty, at ease, and at freedom ; when 
others must roar for sorrow of heart, thou shalt 
sing for joy of heart. 

" Consider, thou must have all thy well-spent 
life to follow thee, instead of all thy sins ; and 
the glorious blessings of the gospel, instead of 
the dreadful curses and condemnations of the 
law ; the blessings of the Father, instead of a 
fiery sentence from the Judge. 

" Let dissolution come when it will, it can do 
thee no harm ; for it will be only a passage out 
of a prison into a palace ; out of a sea of trou- 
bles into an haven of rest ; out of a cloud of 



250 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

enemies, to an innumerable company of true and 
faithful friends ; out of shame, reproach, and 
contempt, into exceeding great and eternal 
glory. For death shall not hurt thee with his 
sting ; nor bite thee with his soul-murdering 
teeth ; but shall be a welcome guest to thee, 
even to thy soul, in that it is sent to free thee 
from thy troubles which thou art in whilst here 
in this world, dwelling in a tabernacle of clay. 
.... Therefore let this cause thee cheerfully to 
exercise thy patience under all the calamities, 
crosses, troubles, and afflictions that may come 
upon thee ; and by patient continuance in well- 
doing, to commit both thyself, and thine affairs 
and actions, into the hands of God, through Je- 
sus Christ, as to a faithful Creator, who is true 
to his word, and loveth to give unto thee what 
he hath promised thee." 

The power and effect with which he "wield- 
ed the terrors of the Lord" in his preaching are 
thus recorded by one who knew him well, and 
who wrote an elegy on his death : — 

" When for conviction on the law he fell, 
You'd think you heard the damned's groans in hell ; 
And then, almost at every word he spake, 
Men's lips would quiver, and their hearts would ache !" 

Nor was he less successful as a " son of conso- 
lation." His friend, Charles Doe, says, " Thou- 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 251 

sands of Christians, in country and town, can 
testify that their comforts under his ministry 
have been to an admiration, so that their joy 
showed itself by much weeping."* 

The following passage from " The Heavenly 
Footman" is quoted with approbation by Southey, 
who observes that it is " in Bishop Latimer's 
vein," an opinion which will be concurred in by 
every one at all acquainted with the sermons of 
that distinguished reformer and martyr. " They 
that would have heaven must run for it, because 
the devil, the law, sin, death, and hell, follow 
them. There is never a poor soul that is going 
to heaven, but the devil, the law, sin, death, and 
hell, make after that soul. ' The devil, your 
adversary, as a roaring lion, goeth about, seek- 
ing whom he may devour.' And I will assure 
you, the devil is nimble, he can run apace, he 
is light of foot, he hath overtaken many, he hath 
turned up their heels, and hath given them an 
everlasting fall. iVlso the Law, that can shoot 
a great way ; have a care thou keep out of the 

* Another contemporary and biographer of Bunyan 
says 01 his preaching: "He laid open before men the 
saving promises and dreadful denunciations of the Scrip, 
ture, and sent it so home, that it not only created joy but 
trembling ; each one on their departure confessing that 
their hearts were moved at his words." 



252 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

reach of those great guns, the ten command- 
ments. Hell also hath a wide mouth ; it can 
stretch itself further than you are aware of. 
And as the angel said to Lot, ' Take heed, look 
not behind thee, neither tarry thou in all the 
plain, (that is, anywhere between this and hea- 
ven,) lest thou be consumed ; ' so say I to thee, 
Take heed, tarry not, lest either the devil, hell, 
death, or the fearful curses of the law of God, 
do overtake thee, and throw thee in the midst 
of thy sins, so as never to rise and recover again. 
If this were well considered, then thou, as well 
as I, wouldst say. They that will have heaven 
must run for it." 

" But if thou wouldst so run as to obtain the 
kingdom of heaven, then be sure that thou get 
into the way that leadeth thither ; for it is a vain 
thing to think that ever thou shalt have the prize, 
though thou runnest never so fast, unless thou 
art in the way that leads to it. Set the case, 
that there should be a man in London that was 
to run to York for a wager : now, though he run 
never so swiftly, yet if he run full south, he 
might run himself quickly out of breath, and be 
never the nearer the prize, but rather the further 
off. Just so it is here ; it is not simply the 
runner, nor yet the hasty runner, that winneth 
the crown, unless he be in the way that leadeth 



LIFE Of JOHN BUNYAN. 253 

thereto. I have observed, that little time which 
I have been a professor, that there is a great 
running to and fro, some this way, and some 
that way ; yet it is to be feared most of them 
are out of the way, and then, though they run 
as swift as the eagle can fly, they are benefited 
nothing at all. ... If now thou ask, ' Which is 
the way?' I tell thee, it is Christ, the Son of 
Mary, the Son of God. Jesus saith, ' I am the 
way, the truth, and the life ; no man cometh to 
the Father, but by me.'"* To sermons in such 
a strain, adds Mr. Southey, however hearers 
might differ in taste and in opinion, there are 
none who would, not listen. 

Bunyan's vividness of imagination, and power 
of expression, enabled him to give almost life 
and reality to some of his descriptions. Take 
for instance the following, from " The Barren 
Fig-tree," ( a discourse on Luke, xiii, 6-9, ) 
which is the last passage we shall quote. 
The preacher is describing the doom of the 
fruitless professor. 

" God comes the third year, as he did before ; 
but still he finds but a barren fig-tree ; no fruit. 

* " The Heavenly Footman ; or a Description of the 
Man that gets to Heaven ; together with the way he runs 
in, the marks he goes by ; and also some directions how 
to run so as to obtain :" a discourse on 1 Cor. ix, 24. 



254 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

Now he cries out again, ' O thou dresser of my 
vineyard, come hither ; here is a fig-tree hath 
stood these three years in my vineyard, and hath 
at every season disappointed my expectation. 
Cut it down ; my patience is worn out ; I shall 
wait on this fig-tree no longer.' 

" And now he begins to shake the fig-tree 
with his threatenings. ' Fetch out the axe.' 
Now the axe is death. Death therefore is called 
for: 'Death, come smite me this fig-tree.' And 
withal the Lord shakes this sinner, and whirls 
him upon a sick bed, saying, ' Take him. Death ; 
he hath abused my patience and forbearance, 
not remembering that it should have led him to 
repentance and the fruits thereof. Death, fetch 
away this fig-tree to the fire ; fetch this barren 
professor to hell.' At this Death comes with 
grim looks to the chamber, and Hell follows 
him to the bed-side ; and both stare this profes- 
sor in the face ; yea, begin to lay hands upon 
him, one smiting him with pains in his body, 
with headache, heartache, backache, shortness 
of breath, trembling at joints, stopping at the 
chest, and almost all the symptoms of a man 
past recovery. Now while Death is thus tor- 
menting the body, Hell is doing with the mind 
and conscience, casting sparks of fire in thither; 
wounding with sorrows, and fears of everlasting 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 255 

damnation, the spirit of this poor creature. And 
now he begins to bethink himself, and cry to 
God for mercy : ' Lord, spare me ! Lord, spare 
me ! ' ' Nay,' saith God, ' you have been a pro- 
vocation to me these three years. How many 
times have you disappointed me ? How many 
seasons have you spent in vain ? How many 
sermons and other mercies did I of my patience 
afford you ? but to no purpose at all. Take 
him. Death.' * Lord God,' saith the sinner, 
' spare me but this once ; raise me but this once ! 
Indeed, I have been but a barren professor, and 
have stood to no purpose at all in thy vineyard ; 
but spare ! O spare this one time, I beseech 
thee, and I will be better.' ' Away, away, you 
will not ; I have tried you these three years 
already ; you are naught ; if I should recover 
you again you would be as bad as you were 
before.' (And all this talk is while Death stands 
by.) The sinner cries again, ' Good Lord, try 
me this once ; let me get up again this once, 
and see if I do not mend.' ' But will you pro- 
mise me to mend ? ' ' Yes indeed, Lord, and vow 
it too ; I will never be so bad again ; I will be 
better.' ' Well,' saith God, ' Death, let this pro- 
fessor alone for this time ; I will try him awhile 
longer ; he hath promised, he hath vowed, that 
he will mend his ways. It may be he will mind 



256 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

to keep his promises. Vows are solemn things ; 
it may be he will fear to break his vows. Arise 
from off thy bed ! ' 

" And now God lays down his axe. At this 
the poor creature is very thankful ; praises God, 
and fawns upon him ; shows as if he did it 
heartily ; and calls to others to thank him too. 
He therefore riseth, as one would think, to be a 
new creature indeed. But by that he hath put 
on his clothes, is come down from his bed, and 
ventured into the yard or shop, and there sees 
how all things are gone to sixes and sevens, he 
begins to have second thoughts, and says to his 
folks, ' What have you all been doing ? How 
are all things out of order ? I am, I cannot tell 
what behind. One may see if a man be put a 
little to a side, that you have neither wisdom 
nor prudence to order things.' And now, in- 
stead of seeking to spend the rest of his time to 
God, he doubleth his diligence after this world. 
'Alas!' he saith, 'all must not be lost; we must 
have provident care.' And thus, quite forget- 
ting the sorrows of death, the pains of hell, the 
promises and vows he made to God to be better, 
because judgment was not speedily executed, 
therefore the heart of this poor creature is fully 
set in him to do evil. 

" These things proving ineffectual, God takes 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 257 

hold of his axe again, and sends Death to a wife, 
to a child, tj his cattle. At this the poor bar- 
ren professor cries out again, ' Lord, I have sin- 
ned ; spare me once more, I beseech thee. O 
take not away the desire of mine eyes ; spare 
my children ; bless me in my labours, and I 
will be better.' ' No,' saith God, ' you lied to 
me the last time ; I will trust you in this no 
longer : ' and withal he tumbleth the wife, the 
child, the estate, into a grave. 

" At this the poor creature is afflicted and 
distressed ; rends his clothes, and begins to call 
the breaking of his promise and vows to mind ; 
he mourns, and, like Ahab, awhile walks softly 
at the remembrance of the justice of the hand 
of God upon him. And now he renews his 
promises : ' Lord, try me this one time more ; 
take off thy hand and see ; they go far that 
never turn.' Well, God spareth him again ; 
sets down his axe again. . . . But, alas ! there 
is yet no fruit on this fig-tree. 

"Well, now the axe begins to be heaved 
higher, for now indeed God is ready to smite 
the sinner. Yet before he will strike the stroke, 
he will try one way more at last, and if that 
misseth, down goes the fig-tree. Now this way 
is to tug and strive with this professor by his 
Spirit. . . . But behold, the mischief now lies 
17 



258 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

here, — there is tugging on both sides. The 
Spirit convinces ; the man turns a^ deaf ear to 
God. The Spirit saith, ' Receive my instruc- 
tion and live;' but the man pulls away his 
shoulder. The Spirit shows him whither he 
is going ; but the man closeth his eyes against 
it. The Spirit offereth violence, but the man 
strives and resists. The Spirit parleyeth the 
second time, and urgeth reasons of a new na- 
ture ; but the sinner answereth, ' No, I have 
loved strangers, and after them I will go.' At 
this God's fury comes up into his face ; now he 
comes out of his holy place, and is terrible ; 
now he sweareth in his wrath, they shall never 
enter into his rest. ' I exercised toward you my 
patience, yet you have not turned unto me,' 
saith the Lord ; ' I smote you in your person, 
in your relations, in your estate, yet you have 
not returned unto me. In thy filthiness is lewd- 
ness, because I have purged thee, and thou wast 
not purged ; thou shalt not be purged any more 
till I cause my fury to rest upon thee : 'Cut it 
down ; why doth it cumber the ground?'" 

Sermonsoi'in this style, delivered with the 
energy and holy fervour which characterized 
Bunyan's preaching, could not fail to tell upon 
the hearts and consciences of his hearers, and 
tuUy account for the popularity and success of 



I 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN, 259 

his ministry, especially as his teaching was 
enforced by the example of a holy life ; for 

" He in the pulpit preach'd truth first, and then 
He in his practice preach'd it o'er again." 

When his new meeting-house was built, we 
are told that " the first time he appeared there 
to edify, the place was so thronged that many 
were constrained to stay without, though the 
house was very spacious, every one striving to 
partake of his instructions, that were of his 
persuasion, and show their good will toward 
him by being present at the opening of the 
place." — Doe's Continuation. 

" He was also very useful as an elder or pas- 
tor : first by his example, he being full of zeal 
and affection at all times, according to know- 
ledge ; more especially at the administration of 
the Lord's supper, it was observable that tears 
flowed from his eyes in abundance, from his 
sense of the sufferings of Christ, that are in that 
ordinance shadowed forth. He was useful also 
by the accuracy of his knowledge of church dis- 
cipline, and readiness to put that into practice 
in the church, as occasion offered, which he 
saw was agreeable to the word of God, whether 
admonition, or edification, or making up of dif- 
ferences, or filling up vacancies, or paring off 
excrescences. . . . When he saw cause of re- 



I 



260 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 



proof, he did not spare for outward circum- 
stances, whether in the pulpit or not ; and was 
ready to administer comfort and succour to the 
tempted. A 'son of consolation' to the broken 
hearted and afflicted, yet a 'son of thunder' to 
secure and dead sinners."* 

" He took great care to visit the sick, and 
strengthen them against the suggestions of the 
tempter, which at such times are very preva- 
lent ; so that they had cause for ever to bless 
God, who had put it into his head at such a 
time to rescue them from the power of the roar- 
ing lion who sought to devour them. 

" He managed his affairs with such exact- 
ness as if he had made it his study, above all 
other things, not to give occasion of offence, but 
rather to suffer many inconveniences to avoid 
it ; being never heard to reproach or revile any, 
what injury soever he received, but rather to 
rebuke those that did. 

" In his own family he kept very strict dis- 
cipline, in prayer and exhortation ; being in 
this, like Joshua, resolved that whatsoever others 

* Chandler and Wilson, in the introduction to their 
edition of his works. The former was Bunyan's succes- 
sor in the pastorate at Bedford ; Wilson was a member 
of Bunyan's church, from which he was sent out to 
take the oversight of a neighbouring Baptist Church. 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 261 

did, as for him and his house, he would serve 
the Lord." — Doe^s Continuation. 

His devotedness as a preacher and pastor, 
his singleness of heart, and the disinterested 
zeal with which he laboured to promote their 
best interests, justly endeared him to the mem- 
bers of his flock. " It is delightful," observes 
Mr. Philip, "to read the respectful and aflfec- 
tionate terms in which Bunyan is mentioned in 
the minutes of the church meetings." 

He was sometimes encountered by scholars, 
who came to oppose him, thinking him an igno- 
rant man. He once "nonplused" a Cambridge 
student, who, overtaking him on the road, asked 
how he " dared to preach," being an unlearned 
man, and not having the original Scriptures ? 
"Have you the original?" returned Bunyan. 
" Yes," replied the scholar. " Nay, but have 
you the very self-same copies that were writ- 
ten by the penmen of them ? " " No, but we 
have true copies of them." " How do you know 
that?" "How," said the scholar, "why we be- 
lieve what we have is a true copy of the origi- 
nal." " Then," replied Bunyan, " so do I be- 
lieve our English Bible to be a true copy of the 
original." So away rode the scholar, adds Mr. 
Doe, who gives the relation. 

As it may appear strange to some, that while 



262 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 



such severe laws were in force against all dis- 
senters from the state Church, Bunyan should 
now be allowed to exercise his ministry appa- 
rently without molestation, it may be well to 
remark, that it was seldom that persecution 
raged: in all parts of the country at the same 
time ; that in most places the force of public 
opinion was against those laws ; and that their 
enforcement in any place depended much on 
the character of the established clergy, and the 
magistracy in the neighbourhood. Occasional- 
ly, too, the dominant party were influenced, by 
motives of policy, to relax somewhat of their 
high-handed rigour. 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 263 



CHAPTER XV. 

PUBLICATION OF THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS : 
NOTICES OF THAT WORK. 

Notwithstanding his almost unremitting la- 
bours as a preacher, a pastor, and an evangel- 
ist, Bunyan still found means to devote some 
time to the productions of his pen. In 1675 
he published a treatise on " Election and Re- 
probation ; " a work on redemption by Christ, 
entitled, " Light for them that sit in Darkness ;" 
" Instruction for the Ignorant," being a plain 
exposition of the leading principles of our holy 
religion, in the form of questions and answers ; 
and " Christian Behaviour, being the Fruits of 
True Christianity." In the latter work, which 
is in the form of a discourse on Titus iii, 7, 8, 
he not only shows the duty of Christians in 
general to be " careful to maintain good works," 
but also directs them in their several relations as 
"husbands, wives, parents, children, masters, ser- 
vants, &c., how to walk so as to please God." 
In the following year he published "A Discourse 
on the Grace of God;" and another entitled, "The 
Strait Gate ; or the great Difficulty of going to 
Heaven," a discourse on Matt, vii, 13, 14. 



264 LIFE OF JOHN BlTJJYAN. 

It is not improbable that the substance of 
some of the above works was written during his 
imprisonment, as the first part of the " Pilgrim's 
Progress" is well known to have been, though 
it was not published until 1677. This wonder- 
ful production of genius was written by its au- 
thor to solace the hours of his confinement, and 
without any reference to its future publication. 
The idea of the work suddenly occurred to his 
mind, or, to use one of his own expressions, 
" bolted in upon him," while he was occupied 
in the preparation of another book : but the story 
is best told in the following extract from " The 
Author's Apology for his Book :" — 

" When at the first I took my pen in hand. 
Thus for to write, I did not understand 
That I at all should make a little book 
In such a mode ; nay, I had undertook 
To make another, which, when almost done. 
Before I was aware, I this begun. 

" And thus it was : I, writing of the way 
And race of saints in this our gospel day. 
Fell suddenly into an allegory 
About their journey, and the way to glory. 
In more than twenty things, which I set down : 
This done, I twenty more had in my crown ; 
And they again began to multiply 
Like sparks that from the coals of fire do fly. 
*^^- Nay then, thought I, if that you breed so fast, 
I'll put you by yourselves, lest you at last 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 265 

Should prove ad infinitum, and eat out 
The book that I already am about. 

" Well, so I did ; but yet I did not think 
To show to all the world my pen and ink 
In such a mode ; I only thought to make 
I knew not what ; nor did I undertake 
Thereby to please my neighbour ; no, not I ; 
I did it mine own self to gratify. 

" Neither did I but vacant seasons spend 
In this my scribble ; nor did I intend 
But to divert myself, in doing this, 
From worser thoughts, which make me do amiss. 

" Thus I set pen to paper with delight, 
And quickly had my thoughts in black and white. 
For having now my method by the end, 
Still as I pull'd, it came ; and so I penn'd 
It down ; until at last it came to be, 
For length and breadth, the bigness which you see." 

After he had completed his allegory, he 
showed it to some of his friends, to get their 
judgment respecting its publication ; but he 
found much diversity of opinion among them 
on that point. 

" Some said, ' John, print it ;' others said, * Not so :' 
Some said, ' It might do good ;' others said, ' No.' 
Now was I in a strait, and did not see 
What was the best thing to be done by me. 
At last I thought, since you are thus divided, 
I print it will, and so the case decided : 



266 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

For, thought I, some I see would have it done, 
Though others in that channel do not run ; 
To prove, then, who advised for the best, 
Thus I thought fit to put it to the test." 

It is not unlikely that the conflicting opinions 
of those whom he consulted in reference to its 
publication were the principal cause of Bunyan's 
keeping the manuscript so long before he sent 
it to the press. 

Such then was the origin of the Pilgrim's 
Progress, a book which, though written by an 
unlettered man, and under the most discourag- 
ing circumstances, has exercised, and continues 
to exercise, " more influence over minds of every 
class, than the most refined and sublime genius, 
with all the advantages of education and good 
fortune, has been able ,to rival, in this respect, 
since its publication. ' Indeed, it would be diffi- 
cult to name another work of any kind, in our 
native tongue, of which so many editions have 
been printed ; of which so many readers have 
lived and died, the character of whose lives and 
deaths must have been more or less affected 
by its lessons and examples, its fictions and 
realities." * 

The Pilgrim's Progress is not purely either 
an allegory or a narrative, but a pleasing mix- 

* Montgomery's Introd. Essay to the Pilgrim's Progress. 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 267 

ture of both, " under the similitude of a dream."* 
Christian, the hero of the story, journeys from 
the City of Destruction to the heavenly country, 
and as we follow with unwearied interest his 
various adventures from "the Slough of De- 
spond, from which he could not get out by rea- 
son of the burden which was upon his back," to 
the river of Death, where Hopeful says to him, 
" Be of good cheer, my brother, I feel the bot- 
tom, and it is good," we find . portrayed in a 
most life-like manner the difficulties and dis- 
tresses, the helps, consolations, and encourage- 
ments which every disciple is like to meet with 
in the course of his Christian pilgrimage. "It 
describes every stage of the believer's experi- 
ence, from conversion to glorification, in the 
most artless simplicity of language ; yet pecu- 
liarly rich with spiritual unction, and glowing 
with the most vivid, just, and well-conducted 

* It is observed in Mr. Oldys's MSS. that the Pilgrim's 
Progress was so acceptable to the common people, by 
reason of the amusing and parabolic manner of its com- 
posure, by way of vision, a method he was thought to 
have such an extraordinary knack in, that some thought 
there were communications made to him in dreams, and 
that he first really dreampt over the matter contained in 
such of his writings. This notion was not a little propa- 
gated by his picture before some of those books, which 
is represented in a sleeping posture. — Biog. Brit. 



y 



268 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 



machinery throughout. It is, in short, a mas 
ter-piece of piety and genius ; and will, we 
doubt not, be of standing use to the people of 
God so long as the sun and moon endure." 

Bunyan evidently had his own religious ex- 
perience in his mind while penning the progress 
of his Pilgrim. Indeed he says, in one of his 
rhyming prefaces, — 

" It came from mine own heart, so to my head," &c. 

This fact will appear also by a comparison of 
some passages from his Pilgrim, with others 
from his Grace Aboundinff. 



^ 



pilgrim's progress. 

" And as he read he wept 
and trembled ; and not be- 
ing able longer to contain, 
he brake out with a lament- 
able cry, saying, 'What 
shallldo?'" 

" Now I saw in my dream 
that they drew nigh to a 
very miry slough ; and they, 
being heedless, did both fall 
suddenly into the hog. Here 
therefore they wallowed for 
a time, being grievously 
bedaubed with dirt," &c. 

" Hopeful. I did not see 
him with my bodily eyes, 



GRACE ABOUNDING. 

" Then breaking out in 
the bitterness of my soul, 
I said to my soul, with a 
grievous sigh, 'How can 
God comfort such a wretch 
as I am ?' " 

" O how cautiously did I 
then go, in all I said or did ! 
I found myself in a miry 
hog, that shook if I did but 
stir, and was as there left 
both of God and Christ, and 
the Spirit, and all good 
things." 

" One day, when I was 
in a meeting house of God's 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 



269 



but with the eyes of my 
understanding. And thus 
it was : One day I was very 
sad, I think sadder than at 
any one time in my life ; 
and this sadness was 
through a fresh sight of 
the greatness and vileness 
of my sins. And as I was 
looking for nothing but hell 
and the everlasting damna- 
tion of my soul, suddenly, 
as / thought, I saw the 
Lord Jesus look down from 
heaven upon me, and say- 
ing, 'Believe on the Lord 
Jesus Christ, and thou shalt 
be saved.' But I replied, 
' Lord, I am a great, a very 
great sinner;' and he an- 
swered, ' My grace is suf- 



people, full of sadness and 
terror, for my fears again 
were strong upon me, and 
as I was now thinking my 
soul was never the better, 
but my ease most sad and 
fearful, these words did with 
great power suddenly break 
in upon me, three times to- 
gether, ' 3Iy grace is suffi- 
cient for thee,^ my grace is 
sufficient for thee, my grace 
is sufficient for thee ; at 
which time my understand- 
ing was so enlightened, 
that I was as though I had 
seen the Lord Jesus look 
down from heaven, through 
the tiles, upon me, and 
direct these words unto 
me." 



ficient for thee.'' " 

See also pages 14 and 68 of the present work. 

Of thej^f5^ edition of the Pilgrim, which ap- 
peared in 1677, no copy is now known to be 
extant. A copy of the second is in the British 
Museum ; it is " with additions," and was 
" Printed for Nath. Ponder, at the Peacock in 
the Poultney, near Cornhill, 1678."* The fourth 

* In this edition the poetical "Apology " occupies nine 
pages, and the body of the work two hundred and se- 



270 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

edition, also " with additions," was published in 
1679, and theffth in 1680. 

The earliest edition Dr. Southey was able to 
procure was the eighth, printed in 1682. On 
comparing this with the old copy in the mu- 
seum, referred to above, he found that the whole 
scene between By-ends and his three friends, 
and their subsequent discourse with Christian 
and Faithful, making several pages, had been 
added since the second edition. This he thinks 
was probably first inserted in the fourth edition, 
which is stated (in an advertisement inserted in 
the eighth) to have " had many additions more 
than any preceding." The eighth edition also 
bears on its title the words, " with additions ;" 
but there is no reason, Dr. Southey thinks, to 
suppose they were " new ones never made be- 
fore," for the ninth, published in 1684, and the 
tenth, in 1685, bear the same promise, but contain 
no alteration whatever. It is certain that no ad- 
ditions have been made since the eighth edition. 

It appears that cuts were first introduced in 
the fifth edition ; for in a notice printed on the 
back of the frontispiece to the eighth, it is stated 

venty-six. The copy above noticed has bound up with 
it the Old Memoir, ( already referred to,) entitled, an 
"Account of Bunyan's Life and Actions, with his El- 
egy, prijt^d in 1692," and occupying forty.four pages. 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 271 

that " the publishers, observing that many per- 
sons desired to have it illustrated with pictures, 
hath endeavoured to gratify them therein : and 
besides those that are ordinarily printed to the 
fifth impression, hath provided thirteen copper 
cuts, curiously engraven, for such as desire 
them."* 

All that is said above, it must be remembered, 
refers to the First Part of Bunyan's great work. 
In the lines at the close of that he hints at the 
possibility of his dreaming " yet another dream." 
It vv^as this probably, in connection with the 
great popularity of the Pilgrim, that induced 
some dishonest imitators to endeavour to palm 
off their own trash as the genuine productions 
of Bunyan, who says, — 

" Some have of late to counterfeit 

My Pilgrim, to their own my title set ; 
Yea, others, half my namet and title too. 
Have stitch'd to their books, to make them do." 

Of these imitations Dr. Southey says, "Only 
one of them has fallen in my way — for it is by 

* A writer in the Gentleman's Magazine for Septem- 
ber, 1843, states that the second and third editions had 
a single cut, representing the author dreaming. 

t This deception was probably executed thus : " Jo. 
Bun.," according to a vicious practice of contracting sig- 
natures which prevailed through almost the whole of the 
seventeenth century. — Philip. 



272 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 



accident only that books of this perishable kind, 
which have no merit of their own to preserve 
them, are to be met with: and this, though enti- 
tled the ' Second Part of the Pilgrim's Progress,' 
has no other relation to the first than its title, 
which was probably a trick of the publishers." 

In 1684 Bunyan published the Second Part 
of his Pilgrim, " wherein is set forth the man- 
ner of the setting out of Christian's wife and 
children ; their dangerous journey, and safe 
arrival at the desired country." On the back of 
the title-page appeared the following notice: — 
"I appoint Mr. Nathaniel Ponder, but no other, to 
print this book, John Bunyan, January 1, 1684." 

If the Second Part does not excite so intense 
an interest as the First, it is not less delightful. 
It is even richer in incident ; and the author has 
shown the fertility of his invention in the no- 
velty which he has thrown in this second jour- 
ney. There is also a pleasure in travelling 
with another company over the same ground ; 
a pleasure arising from the combined effect of 
reminiscence and contrast, and which is infe- 
rior neither in kind nor degree to that which is 
derived from a first impression. The author 
evidently felt this, and we are indebted to it for 
some beautiful passages of repose.* Such, for 
* Conder's Life of Bunyan. Southey's do. 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 273 

instance, is the description of the Valley of Hu- 
miliation : " Though nothing can be more quiet 
and unobtruding, there is a sacredness and so- 
lemnity of contemplative feeling awakened, 
which makes the reader tread as on holy ground. 
The repose and sweetness of the scene, the 
shepherd's boy and his song, the allusion to our 
Lord himself having formerly (when he was a 
pilgrim on earth) loved much to be there — all 
these touching associations, while they soothe 
and tranquillize the soul, fit it for prayer, medi- 
tation, and such discourse as Christiana and her 
company held in passing through the valley. 
The guide's exposition of Christian's terrible 
encounter with Apollyon is an admirable com- 
mentary on that mysterious passage. Nothing 
can be more essentially poetic than this stage 
of Christiana's journey. That our author's tem- 
perament was constitutionally poetical, innu- 
merable passages in all his writings prove, 
where the most felicitous phrases, the loftiest 
conceptions, and the most splendid metaphors, 
(unconsciously to himself,) flash out amidst the 
ordinary matter of his prose ; yet whenever he 
attempts verse, — fire, fancy, feeling, all forsake 
him ; and throughout his numerous metrical 
compositions there will scarcely be found a 
hundred lines that deserve the name of poetry. 

18 



274 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

His best production of this kind is the song, put 
into the mouth of Valiant-for-the-truth, toward the 
close of this Second Part, having the burden — 

♦ To be a pilgrim.' 

" There is an extraordinary variety of charac- 
ters brought into appropriate action, and ex- 
posed to peculiar suffering, in this section of 
the Pilgrim's Progress. ... In the pilgrimage 
of Christian and his successive companions. 
Faithful and Hopeful, he portrayed personal and 
solitary experience, or only bosom-fellowship 
between believers. In the journey of Christiana 
and her family, gradually increasing to a goodly 
troop, he seems to have had more in view to 
illustrate the communion of saints and the ad- 
vantages of church membership. Though each 
individual is strikingly dissimilar from all the 
rest, they harmoniously agree to walk by the 
same rule, and mind the same thing. It is de- 
lightful to travel in such a company, and hear 
them not only tell their several histories, but 
discourse of the adventures of others who have 
gone before ; so that to the last stage in the 
enchanted ground, when they find Stand-fast on 
his knees, there is a perpetual change of capti- 
vating anecdote and biography." — Montgomery. 

No additions or alterations were made in the 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 275 

Second Part, though the author lived more than 
four years after its publication. 

Before the Second Part made its gippearance, 
the First had not only acquired an extensive cir- 
culation in Great Britain, and in the colony of 
New-England, (whither it was carried by the 
Puritan emigrants,) but had also been translated 
into French and Dutch. To these facts the 
author refers with honest oratification in the in- 
troduction to the Second Part : — 

" In France and Flanders, where men kill each other, 
My Pilgrim is esteem'd a friend, a brother. 
In Holland, too, 'tis said, as I am told. 
My Pilgrim is with some worth more than gold. 
Highlanders and wild Irish can agree 
My Pilgrim should familiar with them be. 
'Tis in New-England under such advance, 
Receives there so much loving countenance. 
As to be trimm'd, new clothed, and deck'd with gems, 
That it might show its features and its limbs. 
Yet more ; so comely doth my Pilgrim walk, 
That of him thousands daily sing and talk. 
The very children that do walk the street. 
If they do but my holy Pilgrim meet. 
Salute him will, will wish him well, and say, 
He is the only stripling of the day." 

From the closing paragraphs of the Second 
Part, it seems that the author contemplated a 
third, which should give a further account of 



276 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

the pilgrimage of Christiana's children ; but this 
never appeared. An anonymous work, called 
the Third Part of the Pilgrim's Progress, and 
containing the adventures of one Tender Con- 
science, was published in 1693, and has had the 
honour to be inserted in some editions of Bun- 
yan's matchless parable ; but this, though by 
no means destitute of merit, is as inferior to 
Bunyan as it is unlike him. The name of its 
author is unknown. 

Laboured attempts have been made to deprive 
Bunyan of the credit of originality in his great 
work, and various productions of former times 
have been suggested as having furnished him 
with the idea and general plan of his allegory ; 
but a careful examination of these works has 
shown that they are so dissimilar in character, 
that Bunyan, if he ever saw them, (which respect- 
ing some is more than doubtful,) could have 
drawn from them little or nothing more than a 
hint for the name of his book, — the words " pil- 
grim," and " pilgrimage," occurring in the titles 
of some of them ; even this it is much more like- 
ly he drew from the Bible. See note on p. 333. 

Even in his own day there were not wanting 
those whose envy of his merits, or contempt of 
his abilities, prompted them to charge him with 
plagiarism — an imputation which he indignantly 



i 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 277 

repels in the homely rhymes prefixed to his 
Holy War. 

*' Some say the Pilgrim's Progress is not mine, 
Insinuating as if I would shine 
In name and fame by the worth of another, 
Like some made rich by robbing of their brother ; 

Or that if need require, 

I'll tell a lie in print to get applause. 

I scorn it : John such dirt-heap never was. 

Since God converted him." 

" It came from mine own heart, so to my head, 
And thence into my fingers trickled ; 
Then to my pen," &c. 

" Manner and matter too were all mine own ; 
Nor was it unto any mortal known 
Till I had done it ; nor did any then 
By books, by wits, by tongues, or hand, or pen. 
Add five words to it, or write half a line 
Thereof : the whole and every whit is mine." 

The fifteenth edition of the complete work, 
containing both parts, was published in 1 702 ; 
the nineteenth, " with the addition of new 
cuts," was " Printed for N. Boddington, at the 
Golden Ball, in Duck Lane, 1718." In 1767, 
ninety years after its first publication, it had 
passed through fifty-four editions. 

It is believed there is no European language 
into which this work has not been translated. 
It was early printed even in Popish countries, 
an honour which we presume the author little 



278 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

anticipated :* in those editions the scene of 
"Giant Pope" is of course omitted. The fol- 
lowing, among others, are found in the cata- 
logue of the British Museum : — 

Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress, Arab. 8? Malta 1830. 

Idem Gall. 8? Rotterd. 1722. 

Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress in the Malagassie, or Mad- 
agascar language 16? London, 1838. 

Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress, Romaic, fisrafpaodeioa, 
Tvapa 2.2. fiaaovog. 8? Melita, 1824. 

It was printed in Portuguese in 1722. A late 
number of the Baptist Advocate, (July 13, 1843,) 
a weekly periodical, published in New- York, 
states, that it " is now being translated into the 
Hebrew language, for the benefit of the Jews." 
It has also been translated into the Armenian 
language. 

It is not known when the Pilgrim's Progress 
was first reprinted in America. Doe, writing 
in 1691, only three years after Bunyan's death, 
tells us it had then been printed in New-Eng- 
land.f A writer in the Christian Review, (vol. 

* It is said that a copy of it, in elegant binding, is pre- 
served in the Vatican at Rome. — Ivimey. 

t He says, it '* hath been printed in France, Holland, 
New-England, and in Welsh ; and about a hundred 
thousand in England." — Life of Bunyan. 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 27^ 

iv, p. 418,) says, "The earliest American edi- 
tion we have seen is the sixteenth, and is now 
nearly a century old. It was ' Printed by John 
Draper for Charles Harrison over against 
the Brazen Head in Cornhil Boston N. E. 
M,DCCXLIV.' It is adorned with wood-cuts, 
which, though rude, are expressive." A writer 
in the Boston Weekly Magazine says he has 
examined the seventeenth edition, printed and 
published in the same year, and by the same 
persons. He has also seen a copy of iheffty- 
seventh edition, dated only about twenty or 
twenty-five years later than the above, and some 
time before the revolution. 

Perhaps no other uninspired book has been 
so universally popular as the Pilgrim's Progress. 
The rich vein of native good sense and sober 
pleasantry that runs through it, recommends it 
to all orders of readers, and it is read by almost 
everybody who reads anything. " It commands 
the admiration of the most fastidious critic, 
though he may have no sympathy with either 
its design or spirit ; and it is loved by those 
who are too simple to admire it. It is equally 
a favourite with young and old : children peruse 
it with wonder and delight ; and their interest 
in its pages only increases with advancing 
years." " The very things which are ' milk for 



280 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

babes,' are actually ' strong meat' to the same 
persons when they become men. What is ad- 
mired as history in childhood, is admired as 
mystery in youth : what is admired as ingenuity 
in manhood, is loved as experience in old age. 
... In childhood we sit, as it were, on Chris- 
tian's knee, listening to the tale of his 

* Hair-breadth escapes 
By flood and field.' 

In youth we join him upon his perilous journey, 
to obtain directions for our own intended pil- 
grimage in the narrow way. Before manhood 
is matured, we know experimentally that the 
Slough of Despond and Doubting Castle are no 
fictions. And even in old age. Christians are 
more than ever convinced of the heights, and 
depths, and breadths, and lengths of Bunyan's 
spiritual wisdom. The faltering tongue of de- 
crepitude utters, as sage maxims, the very 
things it had lisped as amusing narrative ; and 
we gravely utter, as counsel to the young, what 
we prattled, as cwnow^, to our parents." — Philip. 
Nor is it possible to conceive a time when it 
shall cease to be popular. " Amidst all changes 
of time, and style, and modes of thinking, it has 
maintained its place in the popular literature of 
every succeeding age, . , . and it stands among 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 2^1 

the perished and perishing intellectual labours 
of man, in generations past, as one of the few 
that may now be pronounced imperishable."* 
Yes, " that wonderful vision which Bunyan 
saw — brighter than any other but that seen by 
him of Patmos — shall be the wonder and delight 
of lisping infancy, and the joy of hoary age, till 
the pilgrims all reach the celestial city."t 

It has been so much the fashion for witlings 
to decry Bunyan's style as coarse and vulgar, 
that we cannot refrain from giving, in addition 
to what has already been said on that sub- 
ject, the following remarks from an article in 
the " Edinburgh Review," written by T. B. 
Macauley, Esq. : — " The style of Bunyan is 
delightful to every reader, and invaluable as a 
study to every person who wishes to obtain a 
wide command over the English language. The 
vocabulary is the vocabulary of the common 
people. There is not an expression, if we ex- 
cept a few technical terms of theology, which 
would puzzle the modest peasant. We have 
observed several pages which do not contain 
a single word of more than two syllables. Yet 
no writer has said more exactly what he meant 
to say. For magnificence, for pathos, for vehe- 

* Montgomery's Essay. t Rev. Dr. Bacon. 



282 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 



ment exhortation, for subtle disquisition, for 
every purpose of the poet, the orator, and the 
divine, this homely dialect — the dialect of plain 
working men — was perfectly sufficient. There 
is no book in our literature on which we would 
so readily stake the fame of the unpolluted Eng- 
lish language : no book which shows so well 
how rich that language is in its own proper 
wealth, and how little it has been improved by 
all that it has borrowed." 

The same writer observes, — " Cowper said, 
forty or fifty years ago, that he dared not name 
John Bunyan in his verse, for fear of moving a 
sneer. . . . We live in better times ; and we are 
not afraid to say, that though there were many 
clever men in England during the latter half of 
the seventeenth century, there were only two 
great creative minds. One of these minds pro- 
duced the Paradise Lost, the other the Pilgrim's 
Progress." 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 263 



CHAPTER XVI. 

CALUMNIOUS REPORT : PUBLICATION OF THE 
HOLY WAR, LIFE OF BADMAN, ETC. 

A DESIRE not to interrupt the account of the 
Pilgrim's Progress has occasioned a departure 
from the strict chronological order of our narra- 
tive ; we must now therefore go back a little to 
the circumstances that intervened between the 
publication of the First and Second Parts of that 
work. During that period (about 1678) an at- 
tempt was made to implicate Bunyan in a charge 
of seduction and murder. A full account of the 
affair was written by the person chiefly inte- 
rested, Agnes Beaumont, the daughter of a 
farmer, near Bedford, who was bitterly preju- 
diced against Bunyan. The facts of the case 
are briefly these. This young woman, who 
was a member of Bunyan's church, had, on a 
certain occasion, a great desire to attend a 
church meeting at a place called Gamlingay. 
" About a week before it," she says, " I was 
much in prayer, especially for two things : the 
one, that the Lord would incline the heart of 
my father to let me go, which he sometimes 
refused j .... the other, that the Lord would 



384 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

go with me, and that I might enjoy his presence 
there at his table." Her father, though at first 
unwilling, at length gave her permission, and a 
Mr. Wilson was to call and take her on his 
horse behind him. He not calling, she was 
sadly disappointed, and feared she should lose 
the opportunity of going, when Mr. Bunyan 
unexpectedly came along. Her brother asked 
him to take Agnes with him, which he at first 
refused to do ; but being urged, he at length 
consented. 

When her father heard that she had gone 
with Bunyan, he was greatly enraged, and 
started to overtake them, intending to pull his 
daughter off" the horse ; but they were then 
beyond his reach. 

" I had not rode far," says Miss Beaumont, 
" before my heart began to be lifted up with 
pride at the thoughts of riding behind this ser- 
vant of the Lord, and was pleased if any looked 
after us as we rode along. . . . My pride soon 
had a fall ; for in entering Gamlingay we were 
met by one Mr. Lane, a clergyman who lived 
at Bedford, and knew us both, and spoke to us, 
but looked very hard at us as we rode along ; 
and soon after raised a vile scandal upon us, 
though, blessed be God, it was false." 

When she returned from the meeting, (which. 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 285 

she says, the Lord made a sweet season to her 
soul,) she found the house locked against her, 
and her father refused to let her in. Finding it 
impossible to gain admission, she went to the 
barn, and continued there all night in prayer, 
though it was in the midst of winter. In the 
morning, when her father came to the barn, she 
entreated him to let her go into the house ; but 
he declared she should never enter it again, 
unless she promised not to go to meeting again 
as long as he lived. She followed him about 
the yard for some time, begging him to relent ; 
but to no purpose, for his anger was only in- 
creased. She then went to the house of her 
brother, who resided within a short distance. 
This was on Saturday. In the course of that 
and the following day she went (accompanied 
either by her brother or sisters) two or three 
times to her father, but met with no better suc- 
cess. At length, on Sunday evening she pro- 
mised her father not to go to a meeting again 
without his consent, on which he gave her the 
key, and she went into the house, and the old 
man appeared perfectly reconciled and cheerful. 
On Tuesday night she was awaked by a 
doleful noise proceeding from her father's room. 
She called to him, asking him if he was not 
well. He answered, " No ; I was struck with 



286 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

a pain in my heart, in my sleep ; and I shall 
die presently." Going into the room, she found 
him sitting upright in his bed, crying to God 
for mercy. She immediately kindled a fire, 
and got something warm for him to drink, hop- 
ing it would relieve him ; but his trying to drink 
brought on a violent retching ; he changed black 
in the face, and soon after fell on the ground, 
apparently dead. His daughter, greatly alarm- 
ed, ran barefooted through the snow to her 
brother's house, and told him that her father 
was dead. He, with two of his men, went to 
his father's, and found him still alive, but una- 
ble to speak, except a word or two ; and in a 
short time he died. 

The next day a lawyer, named Farry, set 
about a report that the old man had been poi- 
soned by his daughter, and that Bunyan had 
furnished her with the stuff to do it with. Upon 
this a surgeon was called to examine the body, 
and an inquest held, when it plainly appeared 
that the man had died a natural death; and 
Farry having nothing to offer in support of his 
charge, was sharply rebuked by the coroner for 
thus publicly defaming the character of an inno- 
cent female. He, however, afterward revived 
the calumny at various times ; once giving out 
that she had herself confessed the crime, and 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 287 

was quite distracted ; and at another time that 
Bunyan had advised her to poison her father 
that he might marry her, and that the plot was 
agreed on as they rode to Gamlingay. " This 
last report," she says, " rather occasioned mirth 
than mourning, because Mr. Bunyan, at the 
same time, had a good wife living." 

The cause of Farry's malignity was this : — 
He had, three years before, privately marked 
out Miss Beaumont for his wife ; and having 
this in view, had persuaded her father, in mak- 
ing his will, to leave the bulk of his property to 
Agnes. But her piety defeated his purpose. 
She would not have him because he was un- 
godly ; and he sought to avenge himself in the 
manner already stated.* 

In 1678 Bunyan published a discourse enti- 
tled, " Come and Welcome to Jesus Christ," 
founded on John vi, 37; and another in the fol- 
lowing year on "The Fear of God." 

His next publication, which appeared in 1682, 
was " The Holy War, made by Shaddai upon 
Diabolus, for the regaining of the Metropolis 

* Miss Beaumont became a member of Bunyan's 
church in 1672, and died in 1720, aged sixty-eight years, 
as appears from a tablet erected to her memory in the 
Baptist chapel at Hitchin. Her own narrative is given 
at considerable length in Philip's Life of Bunyan. 



288 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

of the World ; or the losing and taking again of 
the Town of Mansoul." It is an extended alle- 
gory, representing the ruin and recovery of man 
by the revolt and recapture of a fortified town. 
Compared with the Pilgrim's Progress, it may 
be said to display more originality in its con- 
ception, and at least equal skill in its execution; 
but the subject is less pleasing to the reader, 
and it wants the simplicity and intense interest 
which constitute the charm of the former work. 
Had Bunyan written nothing else, this would 
alone have immortalized his name ; but as it is, 
*' the dark and mysterious grandeur of the Holy 
War has been outshone by the lively and more 
refreshing glories of the Pilgrim, the popular- 
ity of which is a disadvantage to its junior, the 
world being unwilling to recognize an author 
long deceased, by more than one great work, 
when the favourite is of itself conspicuously 
original." — Montgomery. 

Bunyan's discourse on " the Barren Fig-tree" 
appeared soon after his Holy War. Some pas- 
sages from this work have been given in a 
former chapter. In 1683 he published his dis- 
courses on " the Greatness of the Soul," which 
were preached at Pinner's Hall, in London. Of 
these sermons Mr. Philip remarks, — " They 
well account for the electrifying effect of his 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 289 

ministry. It is impossible to read them with- 
out exclaiming, *Hell is open before him; and 
destruction without a covering ! ' I know of no- 
thing so awful. He makes the reader hear 'the 
sighs pf the lost soul.' " 

In the following year he gave to the world 
the "Life and Death of Mr. Badman." In his 
preface to this work he thus speaks of its origin 
and design : — " As I was considering with my- 
self what I had written concerning the progress 
of the Pilgrim from this world to glory, and how 
it hath been acceptable to many in this nation, 
it came into my mind to write of the life and 
death of the ungodly, and of their travel from 
this world to hell. . . . Here, therefore, cour- 
teous reader, I present thee with the Life and 
Death of Mr. Badman ; yea, I do trace him in 
his life, from his childhood to his death, that 
thou mayest, as in a glass, behold with thine 
own eyes the steps that take hold of hell ; and 
also discern, while thou art reading of Mr. Bad- 
man's death, whether thou thyself art treading 
in his path thereto." 

This work is not, like the Pilgrim and the 
Holy War, an allegory ; but a fictitious narra- 
tive, in the shape of a dialogue between Mr. 
Wiseman and Mr. Attentive. The author adopt- 
ed the dialogue form, as being more easy to 
19 



290 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

himself, and more pleasant to the reader, than an 
unbroken narrative. But although the book be 
fictitious as the professed life of one individual, 
it is not so as respects the incidents it relates ; 
being, in fact, a grouping together of circum- 
stances that had come under the author's own 
observation. " To the best of my remembrance," 
he remarks, " all the things that I here dis- 
course of — I mean as to matters of fact — have 
been acted upon the stage of the world even 
many times before mine eyes." 

His object in writing this book, he tells us, 
was that he might do something to check the 
flood of iniquity which threatened to inundate 
the country. " It is the duty of those that can, 
to cry out against this deadly plague ; yea, to 
lift up their voice as with a trumpet against it, 
that men may be awakened about it, fly from it, 
as from that which is the greatest of evils. Sin 
pulled angels out of heaven, pulls men down to 
hell, and overthroweth kingdoms. Who that 
sees an house on fire, will not give the alarm to 
them that dwell therein ? Who that sees the 
land invaded, will not set the beacons on a 
flame? Who that sees the devils, as roaring 
lions, continually devouring souls, will not make 
an outcry ? But above all, when we see sin, 
sinful sin, swallowing up a nation, sinking a 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 291 

nation, and bringing its inhabitants to temporal, 
spiritual, and eternal ruin, shall we not cry out, 
* They are drunk, but not with wine ; they stag- 
ger, but not with strong drink ; ' they are intox- 
icated with the deadly poison of sin, which will, 
if its malignity be not by wholesome means 
allayed, bring soul and body, and estate and 
country, and all, to ruin and destruction. 

" In and by this my outcry I shall deliver 
myself from the ruins of them that perish ; for 
a man can do no more in this matter — I mean 
as man in my capacity — than to detect and con- 
demn the wickedness, warn the evil-doer of the 
judgment, and fly therefrom myself. But O, 
that I might not only deliver myself! O that 
many would hear and turn at this cry, from sin, 
that they may be secured from death and judg- 
ment that attend it ! " 

Of the Life of Mr. Badman, Dr. Southey re- 
marks, that if it is less read than some of Bun- 
yan's more popular works, " it is because the 
subject is less agreeable, not that it has been 
treated with less ability." 

We know not in what year Bunyan wrote his 
" Divine Emblems ; or Temporal Things spi- 
ritualized." These, though specified in the 
title-page as being " fitted for boys and girls," 
are chiefly designed for *' children of a larger 



292 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

growth " than those who are usually thus desig- 
nated. In the preface the author says, — 

" We now have boys with beards, and girls that be 
Huge as old women, wanting gravity. 
Their antic tricks, fantastic modes and way. 
Shew they like very boys and girls do play 
With all the frantic fooleries of the age. 
And that in open view, as on a stage : 
Our bearded men do act like beardless boys ; 
Our women please themselves with childish toys." 

Preachers, he tells us, had failed to produce 
any effect on these grown-up children, because 
they addressed them as men and women, and 
thus missed the mark by shooting too high : he 
therefore aims to attract their attention to reli- 
gious concerns by spiritualizing common things ; 
and as the wise man had before sent his read- 
ers to learn wisdom of the ant, so Bunyan here 
endeavours to draw instruction from the spider, 
the fly, the cuckoo, the snail, and the frog, and 
from events and circumstances familiar to those 
to whom his emblems were addressed. Some 
parts of the work display much of that wit and 
humour with which our author abounded.* The 

* The only practical joke of Bunyan's I ever heard 
of, was played off upon one of his friends, who was a 
cooper. He saw, on passing his shop, some tubs piled 
one above another, and threw them down. " How now, 
master Bunyan," said the cooper, *« what harm do the tubs 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 293 

emblem of " The Cuckoo," where he speaks of 
those who can do 

" Little but suck our eggs and sing 'Cuckoo,' " 

is evidently aimed at those of the state clergy, 
who, though they failed to feed the people with 
knowledge, were by no means negligent in ex- 
acting their tithes. 

As this work is much less known than some 
of Bunyan's other productions, we give one or 
two of its shorter articles as a specimen of its 
style and character. 

UPON THE BEGGAR. 

He wants, he asks, he pleads his poverty. 
They within doors to him an alms deny ; 
He doth repeat and aggravate his grief, 
But they repulse him, give him no relief. 
He begs ; they say. Begone : he will not hear. 
He coughs and sighs, to show he still is there. 
They disregard him ; he repeats his groans : 
They still say. Nay ; and he himself bemoans. 
They call him vagrant, and more rugged grow ; 
He cries the shriller, trumpets out his wo. 
At last, when they perceive he'll take no nay. 
An alms they give him without more delay. 

COMPARISON. 

This beggar doth resemble them that pray 
To God for mercy, and will take no nay ; 

to you ? " " Friend," said Bunyan, " have you not heard 
that every tub should stand on its own bottom ? ^* —Philip. 



294 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

But wait, and count that all his hard gainsays 
Are nothing else but fatherly delays. 
Then imitate him, praying souls, and cry ; 
There's nothing like to importunity. 



OF THE BOY AND THE BUTTERFLY. 

" Behold how eager this our little boy 
Is for this butterfly, as if all joy. 
All profits, honours, yea, and lasting pleasures, 
Were wrapt up in her, or the richest treasures 
Found in her, would be bundled up together — 
When all her all is lighter than a feather. 

He halloos, runs, and cries out, Here, boys, here ! 
Nor doth he brambles or the nettles fear : 
He stumbles at the mole-hills, up he gets. 
And runs again, as if bereft of wits ; 
And all his labour and this large outcry 
Is only for a silly butterfly. 

COMPARISON. 

This little boy an emblem is of those 
Whose hearts are wholly at the world's dispose. 
The butterfly doth represent to me 
The world's best things at best but fading be : 
All are but painted nothings and false joys. 
Like this poor butterfly to these our boys, 
His running through the nettles, thorns, and briars, 
To gratify his boyish fond desires ; 
His tumbling over mole-hills to attain 
His end, namely, his butterfly to gain, 
Doth plainly shew what hazards some men run, 
To get what will be lost as soon as won. 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 295 

Men seem in choice, than children far more wise, 
Because they run not after butterflies ; 
When yet, alas ! for what are empty toys, 
They follow children, like to beardless boys. 

In 1684, Dr. Barlow, bishop of Lincoln, pub- 
lished a letter, calling on his clergy to enforce 
the laws against dissenters, in concurrence with 
another to the same effect, drawn up by the 
Bedfordshire justices. In consequence of this, 
** many were cited unto the spiritual courts, ex- 
communicated, and ruined." — Neal. 

To comfort and encourage the victims of this 
persecution, Bunyan wrote his "Advice to Suf- 
ferers," which was published the same year. 
He also " made it a part of his business to ex- 
tend his charity to such as were taken and im- 
prisoned, and gather relief for such of them as 
wanted. . . . Those whose spirits began to sink, 
he encouraged to suffer patiently for the sake 
of a good conscience, and for the love of God 
in Jesus Christ toward their souls, so that the 
people found a wonderful consolation in his dis- 
course and admonitions." — Doe. 

Bunyan himself appears to have escaped mo- 
lestation at this time. Doe says, " It pleased 
God to preserve him out of the hands of his 
enemies, in the severe persecution at the latter 
end of the reign of Charles XL, though they 



296 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

often searched and laid wait for him, and some- 
times narrowly missed him." 

There is still extant an original deed, (of 
which Mr. Philip has given a fac-simile,) dated 
December 23d, 1685, by which Bunyan, "in 
consideration of the natural affection and love" 
he bore to his " well-beloved wife, Elizabeth 
Bunyan, as also for divers other good causes and 
considerations now at this present especially mov- 
ing" transferred to her " all and singular his 
goods, chattels, debts, ready money, plate, Rings, 
household stuffe, Aparrel, utensills, Brass, pew- 
ter, Beding, and all other his substance what- 
soever." The making of this singular deed can 
only be accounted for on the supposition that 
he feared he might again become the victim of 
intolerance, and wished in that case to save his 
family from want, by securing his little property 
for their use. The following is a fac-simile of 
his signature, as appended to this document. 




^^ 



There is a tradition among the Baptists at 
Reading that he sometimes went through that 
town dressed like a carter, and with a long whip 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 297 

in his hand, to avoid detection. Reading was a 
place where Bunyan was well known. The 
Baptist meeting house there was in a lane ; and 
from a back door they had a bridge over a 
branch of the river Kennet, whereby, in case 
of alarm, they might escape. — Soutliey. 

In 1687 James II. issued a declaration, an- 
nulling all laws against nonconformity to the 
Established Church. This he did, not out of 
any regard to religious liberty, (he being a bi- 
goted Romanist,) but solely for the purpose of 
removing the restrictions against Popery, and 
to pave the way for its re-establishment as the 
national religion : that end accomplished, the 
only religious liberty allowed his subjects would 
have been the liberty to turn Papists. The 
design of the king in this act of toleration was 
covered with so thin a veil, that the dullest eyes 
could scarce avoid seeing through it. Bunyan 
perceiving the real object of the royal decla- 
ration, and anticipating a speedy •termination 
of the indulgence which it granted, advised 
his brethren to use the liberty that was allowed 
them, while they might ; and " to avail them- 
selves of the sunshine by diligent endeavours to 
spread the gospel, and to prepare for an ap- 
proaching storm by fasting and prayer." The 
dreaded " storm" was, however, happily avert- 



298 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

ed, by the abdication of James II., and the ac- 
cession of William III., which took place in 
the following year. 

For Popery and its abominations Bunyan 
entertained a righteous abhorrence, which was 
doubtless not a little increased by the study of 
his favourite Book of Martyrs. " He hated the 
scarlet lady most heartily, and hoped to see her 
funeral before his death. ' She is now dying,' 
he says ; therefore ' let us ring her passing-hell. 
When she is dead, we who live to see it intend 
to ring out ! ' Had she died before him, not all 
his prejudices against bell-ringing, nor his old 
fears of the beam in Elstow church tower, would 
have prevented him from having another pull 
at the ropes." — Philip. 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 299 



CHAPTER XVII. 

LAST YEAR OF BUNYAN'S LIFE : HIS DYING 
SAYINGS AND DEATH. 

We are now rapidly approaching the close of 
Bunyan's earthly pilgrimage, which terminated 
in 1688. In the early part of that year he pub- 
lished " The Jerusalem Sinner saved ; or good 
news for the vilest of men : being an help to 
despairing souls ; showing that Christ would 
have mercy, in the first place, offered to the 
biggest sinners." This is a discourse founded 
on that part of our Lord's commission to his 
apostles, in which he directs that their first 
publication of his gospel should be made in the 
Jewish capital: — ^^ Begin at Jerusalem,''^ Luke 
xxiv, 47. From these words he takes occasion 
to show, that the fact of the first offer of mercy 
being mad^ to the sinners of Jerusalem, (who, 
having put to death the Lord of glory, he justly 
esteemed to be the worst of all sinners,) affords 
encouragement to the vilest offenders to repent 
and be saved. 

This sermon appears to have been one of 
Bunyan's favourites, and the effect produced at 
various times by its delivery induced him to 



300 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

enlarge it, and commit it to the press. "I have 
found, through God's grace," he says, " good 
success in preaching upon this subject, and per- 
haps so I may in writing upon it too. I have, 
as you see, let down this net for a draught ; the 
Lord catch some great fishes by it, for the mag- 
nifying of his truth." The following are the 
heads of the discourse : — 

Christ will have mercy offered in the first 
place to the biggest sinners : 

1. Because the biggest sinners have most 
need thereof. 

2. Because when any of them receive it, it 
redounds most to the fame of his name. 

3. Because by their forgiveness and salva- 
tion, others hearing of it will be encouraged the 
more to come to him for life. 

4. Because that is the way, if they receive it, 
most to weaken the kingdom of Satan. The 
biggest sinners are Satan's colonels and cap- 
tains. 

5. Because such, when converted, are usually 
the best helps in the church against temptation, 
and fittest for the support of the feeble-minded 
there. 

6. Because they, when converted, are apt to 
love him most. 

7. Because grace, when it is received by 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 301 

such, finds matter to kindle upon more freely 
than it finds in other sinners. Great sinners 
are like the dry wood, or like great candles, 
which burn the best, and give the biggest light. 

8. Because by that means the impenitent 
that are left behind will be at the judgment the 
more left without excuse. 

" The Jerusalem Sinner" was followed in rapid 
succession by five other publications, the prin- 
cipal of which was, " Solomon's Temple Spi- 
ritualized ; or gospel light brought out of the 
temple at Jerusalem." The author attempts to 
show that everything in and about the temple, 
its furniture, and its services — from the high 
priest and the holy place, down to the golden 
nails, the snuffers, and the spoons — were typi- 
cal of something corresponding in the gospel 
dispensation. In writing this book Bunyan did 
but follow the fashion of the times, for this 
practice of spiritualizing was popular in those 
days, how little soever it may be esteemed now. 
In the seventy sections or chapters of which 
the work is composed, there is much good and 
instructive matter; but as a whole it exhibits 
far more of ingenuity than of sound judgment. 

Bunyan's labours were now nearly closed. 
His death appears to have taken place during 
one of his periodical visits to the metropolis. 



302 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

His last sermon was preached in London, in 
July, 1688, from John i, 3, " Which were born, 
not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of 
the will of man, but of GodP He concluded 
his discourse by exhorting those who were 
*' born of God," to seek after holiness of life : 
" Consider that the holy God is your Father, 
and let this oblige you to live like the children 
of God, that you may look your Father in the 
face with comfort another day." 

In the course of his ministry Bunyan had 
often found occasion to exercise himself in the 
character of a " peacemaker ;" and we are told, 
that by his skill in reconciling difficulties, " he 
had hindered many mischiefs, and saved some 
families from ruin." It was in the performance 
of a work of mercy of this character that he 
contracted the disease which brought him to the 
grave. A young gentleman, a neighbour of 
Bunyan's, had fallen under the displeasure of 
his father, who in consequence threatened to 
disinherit him. The young man thinking Bun- 
yan the likeliest person to effect a reconcilia- 
tion, applied to him to act as mediator in his 
behalf. Prompted by his benevolent feelings, 
the good man, though labouring under bodily 
indisposition, readily undertook the task, and 
went to Reading for that purpose. There he 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 303 

SO successfully pleaded the young man's cause, 
that the father's heart was softened, and his 
bowels yearned over his son. 

The difference being thus happily adjusted, 
he set out on horseback on his return to Lon- 
don, a distance of thirty-seven miles. The day 
proved very rainy, and he arrived wet and late 
at the house of his friend, Mr. Strudwick, a 
grocer on Snow Hill. His exposure brought 
on a severe cold, and though he was treated 
with all the kindness and consideration which 
loving friendship could suggest, he continued 
to grow worse and worse. At first he was 
seized with a kind of shaking, like an ague, 
which turning to a violent fever, he was com- 
pelled to take to his bed. Finding his strength 
decay, and his end draw nigh, he settled his 
temporal concerns as well as the shortness of 
the time and the violence of his disease would 
permit. 

Having now done with the affairs of this 
world, he gave himself up to the thoughts of 
another, and expressed himself as wishing for 
nothing more than to " depart and be with 
Christ." He comforted those that wept around 
him, exhorting them to trust in God, and pray 
to him for mercy and forgiveness of their sins ; 
telling them what a glorious exchange it would 



304 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

be, to leave the troubles and cares of a wretch- 
ed mortality to live vv^ith Christ for ever, with 
peace and joy inexpressible ; expounding to 
them the comfortable scriptures by which they 
were to hope and assuredly come to a blessed 
resurrection in the last day. He desired some 
to pray, and joined with them in prayer. His 
last words, after he had struggled with a lan- 
guishing disease, were : " Weep not for me, 
but for yourselves : I go to the Father of our 
Lord Jesus Christ, who will no doubt, through 
the mediation of his blessed Son, receive me, 
though a sinner, where I hope we ere long shall 
meet, to sing the new song, and remain ever- 
lastingly happy, world without end." He fell 
asleep in Jesus on the 12th of August, after an 
illness of ten days.* 

Under the title of " Dying Sayings of Mr. 
Bunyan," a number of brief observations, ar- 

* It appears, says Dr. Southey, that at the time of 
his death the lord mayor, Sir John Shorter, was one of 
his London flock. A memorandum, preserved in Ellis's 
Correspondence, (vol. ii, p. 161,) thus records his death. 
September 6, 1688: "Few days before died Bunyan, his 
lordship's teacher or chaplain ; a man said to be gifted 
in that way, though once a cobler." Mr. Philip fur- 
ther informs us, that an elegy on Bunyan's death was 
published under civic authority; and that a copy of it 
is now in the possession of John Wilks, Esq. 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 305 

ranged under various heads, were published by 
Mr. Chandler, his successor at Bedford,* in 
1692. These "sayings," Mr. Philip is of 
opinion, were noted by the Strudwick family 
during Bunyan's last sickness, and the few 
weeks of indisposition that preceded it. The 
following is a selection from them : — 

" Of sin. Sin is the great block and bar to 
our happiness ; the procurer of all miseries to 
man, both here and hereafter. Take away sin, 
and nothing can hurt us ; for death, temporal, 
spiritual, and eternal, is the wages of it. 

" No sin against God can be little, because 
it is against the great God of heaven and earth; 
but if the sinner can find out a little God, it may 
be easy to find out little sins. 

" Take heed of giving thyself liberty of com- 
mitting one sin, for that will lead thee to an- 
other, till by ill custom it become natural. 

" Of affliction. Nothing can render afflic- 
tion so heavy as the load of sin ; would you 
therefore be fitted for afflictions, be sure to get 

* Mr. Chandler, who was a Pedobaptist, was ordained 
to the pastoral charge of the Bedford congregation in 
1691. He continued with them for the long space of 
fifty-six years, and died in a good old age in 1747. The 
present pastor is the Rev. Samuel Hillyard, also a Pedo- 
baptist, who has been there more than forty years. 

20 



306 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

the burden of your sins laid aside, and then 
what afflictions soever you meet with will be 
very easy to you. 

" The Lord useth his Jlail of tribulation, to 
separate the chaff from the wheat. 

" In times of affliction we commonly meet with 
the sweetest experiences of the love of God. 

" Did we heartily renounce the pleasures of 
this world, we should be very little troubled for 
our afflictions. That which renders an afflicted 
state so insupportable to many, is because they 
are too much addicted to the pleasures of this 
life, and so cannot endure that which makes a 
separation between them. 

" The end of affliction is the discovery of sin ; 
and of that to bring us to the Saviour ; let us 
therefore, with the prodigal, return unto him, 
and we shall find ease and rest. 

" I have often thought that the best of Chris- 
tians are found in the worst times ; and I have 
thought again, that one reason why we are not 
better is, because God purges us no more. 

" Of death and judgmex\t. Nothing will 
make us more earnest in working out the work 
of our salvation, than a frequent meditation of 
mortality : nothing hath a greater influence for 
the taking off our hearts from vanities, and 
for the begetting in us desires for holiness. 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 307 

" When the sound of the trumpet shall be 
heard, which shall summon the dead to appear 
before the tribunal of God, the righteous shall 
hasten out of their graves with joy, to meet their 
Redeemer in the clouds ; others shall call to the 
mountains and hills to fall upon them, to cover 
them from the sight of their Judge : let iis there- 
fore in time be posing ourselves to know which 
of the two we shall be. 

" Of the joys of heaven. There is no 
good in this life but what is mingled with some 
evil. Honours perplex ; riches disquiet ; and 
pleasures ruin health. But in heaven we shall 
find blessings in their purity ; without any 
ingredient to imbitter, with everything to 
sweeten them. 

"0! who is able to conceive the inexpressible, 
inconceivable joys that are there ? None but 
those who have tasted of them. Lord, help us 
to put such a value upon them here, that in 
order to prepare ourselves for them, we may be 
willing to forego the loss of all those deluding 
pleasures here. 

"How will the heavens echo for joy, when 
the bride, the Lamb's wife, shall come to dwell 
with her husband for ever ! 

" Christ is the desire of nations, the joy of 
angels, the delight of the Father ; what solace 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 309 

then must the soul be filled with that hath the 
possession of him to eternity ! 

" If you would be better satisfied what the 
beatific vision means, ray request is, that you 
would live holily, and go and see." 

Bunyan's remains were interred in the cele- 
brated burying-place of the dissenters in Bun- 
hill-fields, London. They were deposited in 
the vault of his friend, Mr. Strudwick ; and over 
them a tomb was erected to his memory, bear- 
ing the following inscription : — 

MR. JOHN BUNYAN 

AUTHOR OF THE PILGRIM'S PROGRESS ' 

OB. 12 Aug. 1688, JET. 60. 

• The Pilgrim's Progress now is finished, 
And death has laid him in his earthly bed.' 

Elegy on the death of the Rev. J. B. 

Bunhill-fields burying-ground was first used 
as a cemetery during the awful prevalence of 
the plague : after that period, a lease of it was 
taken by the leading metropolitan dissenters, 
for the interment of their friends ; and it has 
since become rich in the dust of eminent saints, 
whose ashes repose there till the morning of 
the resurrection. Mrs. Susanna Wesley, the 
mother, and Rev. Dr. Annesley, the maternal 
grandfather, of John and Charles Wesley, were 
buried there. Bunyan's tomb is said to be now 



310 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

in a decayed condition, and the inscription near- 
ly illegible ; in consequence of which measures 
have been taken to erect a new one in its place. 
"A committee has been formed to collect sub- 
scriptions for this purpose ; and small sums are 
solicited, that the greater number may enjoy the 
pleasure of contributing to perpetuating this 
memorial of departed genius and piety."* 

" Brother in Christ ! thy flight we view, 

Thy works, which trace thee to the skies ; 
Fain would our spirits follow too. 

And to thy height of glory rise. 
O might the mantle of thy zeal. 

Thy faith and prayer, on us descend ! 
Might we thy kindling ardour feel, 

Our all in Jesu's cause to spend." 

* London Baptist Magazine. 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 311 



CHAPTER XVIII. 

BUNYAN'S PERSONAL APPEARANCE: HIS FAMILY: 
TRADITIONS AND RELICS : CONCLUSION, 

Bunyan's person and character are thus de 
scribed by his earliest biographer, who was per 
sonally acquainted with him : — " He appeared 
in countenance to be of a stern and rough tem- 
per, — but in his conversation mild and affable ; 
not given to loquacity or much discourse in 
company, unless some urgent occasion required 
it ; observing never to boast of himself or his 
parts, but rather to seem low in his own eyes, 
and submit himself to the judgment of others. 
.... He had a sharp, quick eye, accompanied 
with an excellent discerning of persons, being 
of good judgment and quick wit. As for his 
person, he was tall of stature, strong boned, 
though not corpulent ; somewhat of a ruddy 
face, with sparkling eyes ; wearing his hair on 
his upper lip, after the old British fashion ; his 
hair reddish, but in his latter days time had 
sprinted it with gray ; his nose well set, but 
not declining or bending, and his mouth mode- 
rately large ; his forehead somewhat high ; and 
his habit always plain and modest. And thus 



312 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

have we impartially described the internal and 
external parts of a person whose death has 
been much regretted; who had tried the smiles 
and frowns of time, not puffed up in prosperity, 
nor shaken in adversity, always holding the 
golden mean."* 

Respecting his temporal circumstances, we 
are told by the same authority, that " though by 
the many losses he sustained by imprisonment 
and spoil, his chargeable sickness, &c., his 
earthly treasure swelled not to excess ; he al- 
ways had sufficient to live decently and credita- 
bly ; and with that he had the greatest of all 
treasures, which is content; for as the wise 
man says, that is ' a continual feast.' " 

* In endeavouring to transmit to posterity an idea of the 
personal appearance of this extraordinary man, his earliest 
biographers are somewhat at variance with the painter of 
his portrait. The former represent his countenance to 
have been indicative of a stern and rough temper, though 
his nature in reality was mild and gentle. They misun- 
derstood his physiognomy, which Sadler, the artist to 
whom he sat in 1685, three years before his death, read 
far more ably. He has, in fact, produced a portrait in 
which breathes forth the true character of the man : the 
capacious forehead, the full mild eye, the high nose, the 
large and well-formed mouth, the chin indicating firmness, 
and the placid expression of benevolence diffused over 
the whole countenance, are all in harmony with the 
mind of Bunyan as it appears in his works. — St. John. 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 313 

A few short paragraphs will suffice to tell all 
that is known respecting the family and de- 
scendants of Bunyan. His wife Elizabeth, who 
pleaded his cause with so much spirit before 
the judges, did not long survive him ; but in 
1692 "followed her faithful Pilgrim to the ce- 
lestial city, there to dwell in the presence of 
the King and her husband for ever." 

He appears to have had six children. Mary, 
his " poor blind child," for whom he expressed 
such tender solicitude while in prison, died a 
few years before him. Thomas, his eldest son, 
who joined the church at Bedford in 1673, con- 
tinued a member forty-five years. He occa- 
sionally preached in the neighbouring villages, 
and was sometimes appointed to visit disorderly 
members ; he must therefore have "been in good 
repute both for discretion and piety. Of the 
other children, John, Joseph,* Sarah, and Eliza- 
beth, we believe nothing is known but their 
names. Katharine Bunyan, admitted a member 

* In connection with this son there is an anecdote 
which strikingly exhibits the disinterestedness and sim- 
plicity of Bunyan's character. " I once told him," says 
one, " of a gentleman in London, a wealthy citizen, that 
would take his son Joseph apprentice without money, 
which might be a great means to advance him : but he 
replied to me, ' God did not send me to advance my 
family, but to preach the gospel.' " 



314 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

of the church in 1692, and John Bunyan, re- 
ceived into communion the following year, are 
supposed to have been his grandchildren. 

In the wall of the burial-ground attached to 
the Bedford meeting house is a tablet to the 
memory of Hannah Bunyan, a great grandchild 
of Bunyan's, who died in 1770, and with her 
all knowledge of his posterity terminates. It 
bears the following inscription : — " In memory 
of Hannah Bunyan, who departed this life Feb- 
ruary 15th, 1770, aged 76 years; she was 
great-granddaughter to the Rev. and justly-cele- 
brated Mr. John Bunyan, who died at London, 
August 31st,* 1688, aged 60 years, and was 
buried in Bunhill-fields, where there is a stone 
erected to his memory. He was Minister of 
the Gospel here 32 years, and during that time 
suffered 12 years' imprisonment." 

The cottage in which he was born is still 
substantially at Elstow, although somewhat 
modernized by recent repairs. Our view of it 
is copied from a picture taken from an old print. 

Bunyan's meeting house at Bedford was 
pulled down, and a new one erected on its site 
in 1707. Howard, the philanthropist, and Mr. 

* There would seem from this to be some uncertainty 
as to the day on which Bunyan died : the inscription on 
his own stone gives August 12th as the date of his death. 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 315 

Whitbread, father of the distinguished member 
of parliament, both had pews in it.* The old 
pulpit was transferred to the new chapel, and 
used in it for many years, when it was pur- 
chased by Mr. Howard, who gave for it £30, 
and a new pulpit which cost him jC40.t Mr. 
Whitbread, at the same time, gave £126 to- 
ward other improvements on the chapel ; and at 
his death left to the church £500 in three per 
cent, stock, the interest of which was to be an- 
nually distributed in bread to the poor members, 

* After his settlement at Cardington, Mr. Howard be- 
came a regular hearer at this chapel. He used, when 
the weather permitted, to walk from his residence to the 
chapel, a distance of three miles, every Sunday, before 
the morning service ; and returned home in the same 
manner after the close of the afternoon service. In order 
to secure retirement for his devotions, he built a house 
within a few doors of the chapel, which he permitted a 
family to occupy free of rent, on the condition that he 
should have the use of the parlour when he was at Bed- 
ford on the sabbath, — Life of Howard. 

t What Howard did with it I know not. Mr. Hillyard 
has, however, a small table which was made from it, on 
which he places occasionally Bunyan's cup. That cup 
is a beautiful curiosity, and of exquisite workmanship. 
It seems, from the splendour of the colours, and the 
chasteness of both the form and ornaments, to be of 
foreign manufacture. It will hold about a pint; and 
tradition says, that Bunyan's broth was brought to cha. 
pel in it for his Sunday's dinner in the vestry Philip. 



316 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

between Michaelmas and Christmas; assigning 
as a reason for his liberality, the respect he had 
for the memory of Bunyan.* 

Bunyan's pulpit Bible is in the possession of 
the Whitbread family. " When it was to be 
sold among the library of the Rev. Samuel Pal- 
mer, of Hackney, Mr. Whitbread, the member, 
gave a commission to bid as much for it as the 
bidder thought his father, had he been living, 
would have given for a relic which he would 
have valued so highly. It was accordingly 
bought for twenty guineas, [$100.]" — Southey. 

Bunyan's copy of the Book of Martyrs, in 
three folio volumes, has recently, after a long 
absence, found its way back again to Bedford. 
For many years it has been eagerly sought after 
by collectors of curious and valuable books. It 
was in one family for nearly a century. In 1780 
it was purchased by a Mr. Wontner, of London, 
from whom it descended to his daughter. After 
passing through two or three more hands, it was 
purchased by Mr. White, a bookseller of Bedford, 
and a great admirer of Bunyan, who gave for it 
jC40,($192,) solely for the purpose of depositing 
it in the town where, in former days, it had been 
so highly appreciated by its venerated owner. 

* His son afterward increased the principal to £980, 
and the interest now amounts to about ^140 a year. 



LIFE OF JOHN BUXYAX. 



317 




One of the treasured relics of the Pilgrim, 
still preserved by the church, is his vestry chair, 
of which our cut is an accurate representation. 

Bunyan's tvalking-stick — the Pilgrim's staff — 
is now, Mr. Philip tells us, in the possession of 
a Mr. Voley, by whom it is greatly prized. 

The jail in which Bunyan was confined, 
(described as a loathsome building,) was pulled 
down many years ago. It stood on the bridge. 

Among the spots consecrated by Bunyan's 
memory is a deep dell, or valley, in a wood 
near Hitchin, (a village in Hertfordshire,) in 
which a thousand people could assemble. Here, 



318 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

standing by the stump of a tree, which served 
him for a pulpit, he frequently preached (some- 
times at midnight) to large congregations, who 
stood around him on an eminence, in the form 
of a crescent. (It is said that during the ser- 
vice a person kept watch at the entrance to this 
spot, to give notice of the approach of officers 
or informers, so that the people might have time 
to escape.) A chimney-corner at a house in the 
same wood is still looked upon with veneration, 
as having been the place of his refreshment. 

About five miles from Hitchin was a famous 
Puritan preaching place, called Bendieh, where 
Bunyan was also in the habit of preaching. It 
had been a malt house, was very low, and had 
a thatched roof, and ran in two directions, a 
large square pulpit standing in the angle. Ad- 
joining the pulpit was a high pew, on which 
ministers sat out of sight of informers, and from 
which, in case of alarm, they could escape into 
an adjacent lane. The building being much 
decayed, the meeting was transferred, in 1787, 
to a place called Coleman Green ; and the pul- 
pit, with a commendable feeling, was carefully 
removed thither. This, and the pulpit in Lon- 
don, (of which we have given an engraving,) 
are believed to be the only ones now in existence 
m which Bunyan is known to have preached. 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 319 

At a house near Preston Castle, about three 
miles from Hitchin, the nonconformist ministers 
used to meet for mutual conference. At one of 
these meetings, at which Bunyan was present, 
that difficult text about the " groans " of the 
" creation" (Rom. \m, 19-22) was a subject of 
discussion : when it came to his turn to speak, 
he only said, "The Scriptures are wiser than I;" 
intimating that the subject was beyond his com- 
prehension. Thus Luther used to say, " The 
meaning of that scripture I could never find out." 

But the most valuable relics of Bunyan are 
his numerous writings, which constitute a mon- 
ument to his genius that will prove far more 
enduring than the stone which marks the spot 
where his ashes repose. He was a much more 
voluminous author than most of his readers are 
aware. His works, great and small, were equal 
in number to the years of his life ; hence, to the 
title of one of his productions the publisher ap- 
pended the words, " By John Bunyan, who wrote 
sixty books." He did not, however, live to 
publish the whole of them himself. After his 
death, his wife put forth an advertisement, stat- 
ing her inability to print those which he had 
left in manuscript ; but they were included in 
a folio volume of his works, published in 1692, 
the year in which she died. It was edited by 



320 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

Messrs. Chandler and Wilson,* who remark in 
the preface, " that several of his treatises had 
appeared in print before ; the rest were pre- 
pared for the press by the author before his 
death." This volume, however, was far from 
containing the whole of his works. 

Mr. Charles Doe, in conjunction with another 
person, issued a circular or prospectus for the 
publication of the remaining works. It con- 
tained " Thirty Reasons why Christian people 
should promote, by subscription, the printing in 
folio the labours of Mr. John Bunyan, late Min- 
ister of the Gospel, and Pastor of the congrega- 
tion at Bedford :" there was also a brief sketch 
of the author's life, and the chronological list of 
his works, entitled, "A Catalogue -Table of Mr. 
Bunyan's Books, and their succession in pub- 
lishing; most according to his own reckoning." 
We give the list, with some corrections, 

1. Some Gospel Truths opened .... . 1656 

2. A Vindication of the above 1657 

3. Sighs from Hell ; or Groans of a Damned Soul. 

4. The Doctrine of the Law and Grace unfolded ; in 
a Discourse touching the Law and Gospel. 

5. Discourse on Prayer 1663 

* Wilson was formerly a member of Bunyan's church 
at Bedford, from whence he went out to take the paste 
ral charge of the Baptist congregation at Hitcliin, which 
is commonly supposed to have been founded by Bunyan. 






LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 321 

6. A Map of Salvation, Sec. 

7. One Thing is Needful ; or Serious Meditations upon 
the Four Last Things — Death and Judgment, Heaven 
and Hell. 

8. Ebal and Gerizzim ; or the Blessing and the Curse. 

9. Prison Meditations. 

10. The Holy City ; or the New Jerusalem, 8vo. 1665 

11. The Resurrection of the Dead, and Eternal Judg- 
ment 1665 

12. Grace Abounding to the Chief of Sinners. 

13. Defence of the Doctrine of Justification by Jesus 
Christ; in reply to Bishop Fowler, 4to. . . . 1671 

14. A Confession of my Faith; and a Reason of my 
Practice 1672 

15. Difference in Judgment about Water-baptism no Bar 
to Communion . 1673 

1€. Peaceable Principles and True ..... 1674 

17. A Discourse on Election and Reprobation. 

18. Light for them that sit in Darkness. . . . 1675 

19. Christian Behaviour; being the Fruits of True Chris- 
tianity 1675 

20. Instructions for the Ignorant, 8vo 1675 

21. Saved by Grace ; or a Discourse on the Grace of God. 

22. The Strait Gate, 8vo 1676 

23. The Pilgrim's Progress, First Part, 12mo. . 1677 

24. Come and Welcome to Jesus Christ, 8vo. . 1678 

25. A Treatise on the Fear of God 1679 

26. The Holy War 1682 

27. The Barren Fig-tree ; or the Doom and Downfall of 
the Fruitless Professor. 

28. The Greatness of the Soul, and the Unspeakablenesa 
of its Loss 1683 

29. A Case of Conscience of Prayer. 

21 



322 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

30. Advice to Sufferers 1684 

31. The Pilgrim's Progress, Second Part . . . 1684 

32. Life and Death of Mr. Badman 1684 

33. A Holy Life the Beauty of Christianity . . 1684 

34. Discourse upon the Pharisee and the Publican 1685 

35. Caution to stir up to watch against Sin. . , 1685 

36. Meditations on Seventy-four Things . . . 1685 

37. Questions about the Nature and Perpetuity of the Se- 
venth-day Sabbath ; and Proof that the First Day of 
the Week is the Christian Sabbath .... 1685 

38. The Jerusalem Sinner saved 1688 

39. Work of Jesus Christ as an Advocate, 12mo. 1688 

40. A Discourse of the Nature, Building, and Govern- 
ment of the House of God 1688 

41. The Water of Life ; a Discourse upon Revelation 
xxii, 1 , . . . . 1688 

42. Solomon's Temple spiritualized 1688 

43. The Acceptable Sacrifice; or the Excellence of a Bro- 
ken Heart 1688 

44. His Last Sermon, preached July, 1688. 

45. An Exposition of the ten first Chapters of Genesis, 
and Part of the eleventh 1 692 

46. Justification by Imputed Righteousness; or no Way 
to Heaven but by Jesus Christ 1692 

47. Paul's Departure and Crown ; or an Exposition up- 
on 2 Tim. iv, 6-8 1692 

48. Of the Trinity and a Christian 1692 

49. Of the Law and a Christian 1692 

50. Israel's Hope encouraged ; or what Hope is, and how 
distinguished from Faith 1692 

61. The Desire of the Righteous granted ; or a Discourse 

of the Righteous Man's Desires 1692 

52. The Unsearchable Riches of Christ . . . 1692 






LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 323 

53. Christ a Complete Saviour; or the Intercession of 
Christ, and who are privileged in it . . . , 1692 

54. The Saints' Knov^^ledge of Christ's Love . . 1692 

55. Discourse of the House of the Forest of Lebanon 1692 

56. Of Antichrist and his Ruin ; and of the Slaying of 
the Witnesses 1693 

57. A Christian Dialogue. 

58. The Heavenly Footman ; or a description of the Man 
that gets to Heaven. 

59. A Pocket Concordance. 

60. An Account of his Imprisonment. 

This list is not quite complete, the Divine 
Emblems, and one or two other works, being 
omitted : we have not inserted them, not know- 
ing the order of their publication. Numbers 
seven, eight, nine, and thii'ty-jive in the foregoing 
list are in verse. Those numbered irom forty- 
four to sixty, inclusive, were posthumous publi- 
cations, most of which, as will be seen by the 
dates appended to them, appeared for the first 
time in the folio volume published in 1692. A 
work entitled, Heart's Ease in Heart's Troubles, 
which has been often printed under Bunyan's 
name, was not written by him. 

Doe, who calls himself " the struggler for the 
preservation of Mr. Bunyan's labours in folio," 
appears not to have succeeded in his project. 

In Granger's Biographical History of Eng- 
land, it is stated that " the works of Mr. Bun- 



324 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 



yan, which had long been printed on tobacco 
paper by Nicholas Boddington and others,* were 
in 1735-6 reprinted in two decent volumes, 
folio." This edition was prepared by the Rev. 
Samuel Wilson, a Baptist preacher in London, 
and grandson of the Wilson who edited the first 
folio volume. A finer edition was afterward 
published, with a recommendatory preface by 
Whitefield ; and since that there has been an- 
other complete edition in six volumes, octavo. 

No complete edition of Bunyan's writings 
has ever been printed in this country ; the vol- 
umes published here as " Bunyan's Works " 
being only a selection. 



The life of Bunyan furnishes a striking ex- 
ample of the elevating tendency of true religion, 
and its power over the mental as well as the 
moral faculties of man. No man could more 
emphatically say. By the grace of God I am 
what I am. No sooner was the ungodly sinner 
reclaimed, " than, just in proportion as his heart 
was purified, and his affections were raised 
from earthly, sensual delights, his understand- 
ing was opened, and the hidden energies of a 

* Mr. iPhilip, speaking of the paper on which Bun- 
yan's works were first printed, says that it seemed to be 
the very worst which the publishers could obtain. 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 325 

mind, destined in future ages to rule over mil- 
lions of minds, were awakened. . . . Now, had 
he continued in his headlong, heedless career 
of vice and folly, he must have lived a pest to 
civilized society, and ' died as a dog dieth ;' his 
memory had perished with the recollections of 
his immediate descendants, and at this day it 
would have been no more known that such a 
man existed than what shape the cloud wore 
from which the first shower fell upon his 
head." — Montgomery. 

Having been brought out of the darkness of 
sin into the marvellous light of the gospel, he 
conscientiously devoted his newly-awakened 
energies to the cause of his divine Master. It 
became his meat and his drink to do and suffer 
what he believed to be the will of his heavenly 
Father. He set himself to serve the Lord ; and 
with an earnestness of soul, and a singleness 
of purpose, of which there are too few exam- 
ples, laboured that others might become par- 
takers of that grace to which he felt himself so 
great a debtor. And in this work he was, as 
we have seen, eminently successful. Perhaps, 
with the single exception of Richard Baxter, 
there was no other man of his day whose labours 
and writings have been rendered so mightily 
instrumental in the furtherance of that gospel 



326 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

for which he was so long " an ambassador in 
bonds." 

The hfe and ministry of such a man are a 
standing rebuke to the arrogant pretensions of a 
class of individuals who, without any evidence 
of extraordinary piety or success, (but rather 
the contrary,) claim to be the exclusive minis- 
ters of Christ ; but many of whom, if we may 
judge by their spirit and principles, had they 
lived eighteen hundred years ago, would have 
been found, not among the number of " the 
twelve," but in the ranks of those who rebuked 
the Saviour because he walked not " according 
to the TRADITION of the elders." While an un- 
godly and intolerant priesthood were making an 
empty boast of " apostolic succession," and for- 
bidding to preach all who followed not them, 
John Bunyan was zealously doing " the work 
of an evangelist." And he made "full proof 
of his ministry." He could point those who 
questioned his authority to scores and hundreds 
brought to a knowledge of the truth through his 
instrumentality, and say, " The seals of mine apos- 
tleship are they in the Lord." Whether of these 
twain, then, think ye, did the will of Him whom 
they both professed to serve ? The Master him- 
self has furnished a clew for the answer of this 
inquiry: "By \\nQU fruits ye shall know them.'* 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 327 

Happy is the church " that hath its quiver 
full" of such preachers as John Bunyan ; men 
of " clean hands and pure hearts," called and 
qualified by the Holy Ghost for " the work of 
the ministry," and thrust out into the vineyard 
by the " Lord of the vineyard." These, though 
no mitred prelate may have laid holy or unholy 
hands upon their heads, are the true successors 
of the apostles ; and the blessed results that 
accompany their ministrations are a verification 
of the promise made by the great Head of the 
church to the first preachers of his gospel, and 
through them to their successors in all ages, 
" Lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end 
of the world." 

We cannot better conclude our work than by 
appending the following lines, written by Ber- 
nard Barton on seeing an authentic portrait of 
Bunyan : — 

And this is Bunyan ! How unlike the dull. 

Unmeaning visage which was wont to stand 
His Pilgrim's frontispiece — its pond'rous skull 
Propp'd gracelessly on an enormous hand ; — 
A countenance one vainly might have scann'd 
For one bright ray of genius or of sense ; 

Much less the mental power of him who plann'd 
This fabric quaint of rare intelligence, 
And having reared its pile, became immortal thence. 



»28 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 



But here we trace, indellibly defined, 

All his admu-ers' fondest hopes could crave. 
Shrewdness of intellect, and strength of mind ; 

Devout, yet lively, and acute though grave ; 

Worthy of him whose rare invention gave 
To serious truth the charm of fiction's dress. 

Yet in that fiction sought the soul to save 
From earth and sin, for heaven and happuiess. 
And by his fancied dreams men's waking hours to bless. 

Delightful author ! while I look upon 
The striking portraiture of thee — I seem 

As if my thoughts on pilgrimage were gone 
Down the far vista of thy pleasant dream. 
Whose varied scenes with vivid wonders teem — 

Slough of Despond ! thy terrors strike mine eye ; 
Over the Wicket Gate I see the gleam 

Of shining light ; and catch that mountain high. 
Of Difficult ascent, the Pilgrim's faith to try. 

The House called Beautiful ; the lowly Vale 

Of Self-Humiliation, where the might 
Of Christian, panoplied in heavenly mail. 

Overcame Apollyon in that fearful fight ; 

The Valley named of Death, by shades of night 
Encompass'd, and with horrid phantoms rife ; 

The Town of Vanity, where bigot Spite, 
Ever with Christian pilgrimage at strife. 
The mart3rr'd Faithful gave the crown of endless life ! 

Thence on with Christian and his hopeful peer. 

To Doubting Castle's dungeons I descend ; 
The Key of Promise opes those vaults of fear; 



LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 329 

And now o'er Hills Delectable I wend 

To Beulah's sunny plains, where sweetly blend 

Of flowers, and fruits, and song, a blissful maze ; 
Till at the bridgeless stream my course I end, 

Biyeing the further shore with rapture's gaze, 
Where that bright city basks in glory's sunless blaze ! 

Immortal dreamer ! while thy magic page 
To such celestial visions can give birth, 

Well may this portraiture our love engage, 

Which gives, with grace congenial to thy worth, 
The form thy living features wore on earth : 

For few may boast a juster, prouder claim 

Than thine: whose labours blending harmless mirth 

With sagest counsel's higher, holier aim. 
Have from the wise and good won honourable fame. 

And still, for marvelling childhood, blooming youth, 

Ripe manhood, silver-tress'd and serious age — 
Ingenious fancy, and instructive truth 

Richly adorn thy allegoric page. 

Pointing the warfare Christians yet must wage, 
Who wish to journey on that heavenly road ; 

And tracing clearly each successive stage 
Of the rough path thy holy travellers trod. 
The Pilgrim's Progress marks to glory and to God ! 

We have now given what we believe to be 
a true portraiture of this distinguished man, and 
a faithful narrative of the circumstances which 
marked his life, so far as they are known or 



330 LIFE OF JOHN BUNYAN. 

can now be ascertained. Our task has not been 
accomplished without much labour ; still it has 
been a " labour of love," and we hope also of 
spiritual profit. Indeed, no one who " goes on 
pilgrimage " can study Bunyan's experience and 
not be benefited by it : and we trust that thou, 
gentle reader, hast found something in this life 
of the Pilgrim to aid thee in thy progress to 
the celestial city : if so, we have not written, 
nor hast thou read, in vain. Farewell. 



APPENDIX. 



Note to Page 33. 

Elstow (originally Helenstowe) is a place of 
very ancient date. It was noted as the site of an 
abbey of Benedictine nuns, founded in the time 
of William the Conqueror, by his niece. 

The Church of St. Mary, at Helenstowe, 
was dedicated to the holy Trinity, and St. He- 
lena, mother of Constantine the Great, from 
whom the village appears to have taken name, 
for Dugdale calls it " Helenstow, i. e., Helene 
statio." The tower (see the engraving on page 6) 
is entirely detached from the church. The bel- 
fry is furnished with a ring of five bells, bearing 
severally these inscriptions : — 

God save our King. 1631. 

Praise the Lord. 1602. 

Christopher Graie made me. 1655. 

VBCDEFG ABCDE ^STVW 

Be yt knowne to all that doth me see 

That Newcombe of Leicester made mee. 1604. 

In 1821, Elstow contained 102 houses, and 
548 inhabitants. Gent. Mag., vol. xcvi, pt. 2, pp.105-7. 

Note to Page 207. 
This council was held by Pope John about 
the year 1400. The following account of the 
incident referred to is taken from a copy of the 



332 APPENDIX. 

Book of Martyrs, of the same edition as the one 
owned by Bunyan : — 

" As mention is made of a certaine councell 
before holden at Rome against the articles and 
bookes of John Wickliffe, it shall not be imper- 
tinent nor out of purpose to repeat a certain 
merry history, and worthy otherwise to be noted, 
written by Nicholas Clemangis, of a certaine 
spirit which ruled the Popish councels ; his 
words are these : — ' The same pope called a 
councell at Rome, at the earnest sute of diverse 
men. And a masse of the holy Ghost being 
said at the entrance into the said councell, (ac- 
cording to the accustomed manner,) the coun- 
cell being set, and the said John sitting highest 
in a chaire prepared for him for that purpose : 
Behold, an ugly and dreadfuU Owle, or as the 
common proverbe is, the evill signe of some 
mischance of death to follow, comming out of 
the backe halfe of him, flew to and fro, with 
her evill favoured voice, and standing upon the 
middle beame of the Church, cast her staring 
eyes upon the Pope sitting. The whole com- 
pany began to marvell, to see the night Crow, 
which is wont to abide no light, how he should 
in the mid day come in the face of such a mul- 
titude, and iudged (not without cause) that it 
was an ilfavored token. And as they stood 
beholding one another, and advising the pope, 
scarcely could they keepe their countenance 
from laughter. John himselfe, upon whom the 



APPENDIX. 333 

Owle stedfastly looked, blushing at the matter, 
began to sweat and to fret and fume with him- 
selfe, and not finding by what other means he 
might salve the matter, being so confused, dis- 
solving the councell, rose up and departed. 
After that there followed another Session : in 
the which the Owle againe, after the manner 
aforesaid, although, as I believe, not called, was 
present, looking stedfastly upon the Bishop ; 
whom hee beholding to bee come againe, was 
more ashamed than hee was before (and iustly ;) 
saying, hee could no longer abide the sight of 
her, and commanded that shee should bee driven 
away with battes and shoutings : but she being 
afraid neither with their noise, neither with 
anything else, would not away, untill that with 
the strokes of the stickes, which were throwne 
at her, shee fell dovvne dead before them all.'" 

Note to Page 276. 

We give below, brief notices of some of the 
works referred to, compiled from Southey, Phi- 
lip, Montgomery, and others. 

Le Romant des trois Pelerinages. The Ro- 
mance of the Three Pilgrimages, by William 
de Guilleville, a priest of the Abbaye Royale 
of St, Bernard at Changles. 

This comprises three works, — The Pilgrimage of Hu- 
man Life — The Pilgrimage of the Soul — and the Pilgrim- 
age of Jesus Christ. The first was composed in 1310 ; 
the last bears the date 1358. They are composed in 
^ octosyllabaic French verse, and were very popular in the 



334 APPENDIX. 

fourteenth century. The second part only was render, 
ed into English. It was translated in 1413, and a man- 
uscript of it is still preserved ; it is entitled 

Y^ Dreme of y« Pilgrimage of y« Soule, 

translated out of Frensch into Englisch, w^ som 

addicion, y^ yer of our Lord M. iiii and prittene. 

Caxton printed the " Pilgrimage of the Soul" in 1483. 
It details the numerous singular incidents which are pre- 
sumed to befall the soul in its progress after separation 
from the body ; namely, its trial before St. Michael the 
Provost, and final sentence to purgatory ; a description 
of the pains of hell, and its inhabitants ; the soul's re- 
lease from purgatory, and ascension to heaven, etc. 

The Voyage of the Wandering Knight, 
showing the whole course of a man's life, how 
apt he is to follow vanitie, and how hard it is 
for him to attaine to virtue. Devised by John 
Carthemy, a Frenchman, and translated out of 
French into English by W. G., of Southampton. 

This is the title of an old quarto volume, printed in 
black letter, without date. It is the first work in which 
can be traced any resemblance to the Pilgrim's Progress. 
There were two editions of this moral romance printed 
in the sixteenth century, and a third in the seventeenth ; 
it is said also that the latter was popular in Bunyan's 
day. There is, however, litde similarity between the 
two works, beyond the circumstance, that each consists 
of imaginary travels, in quest of " true felicitie." 

The Pilgrimage of Perfection, written by 
William Bond, a brother of Sion Monastery. 
Printed by Wynkyn de Worde. 1526. 

This is a devotional treatise, divided into three parts, 
of which the first shows that the Christian life is a pil- 
grimage ; the second, that it leaves the world ; and the 



APPENDIX. 335 

third contains the self-pilgrim, in a seven days' journey 
assigned to the seven days of the v^^eek, the first five con- 
taining the active life of religion, and the last two the 
contemplative life. The whole work is a collection of 
monastical literature and devotions, comprising exposi- 
tions of the Pater-noster, Creed, Ave, Decalogue, etc. 

The Pilgrimage to Paradise ; compiled for the 
direction, comfort, and resolution of God's poore 
distressed children in passing through this irk- 
some wildernesse, etc. By L. Wright. 4to. 1591 . 

The Pilgrim's Journey towards Heaven. By 
William Webster. Lond. 1613. 8vo. 

The Pilgrimage of DoA^ekin and Willekin to 
their Beloved in Jerusalem, with a Narrative of 
their adversities and the end of their adventures ; 
described and set forth in emblematical pictures 
by Boetius of Bolswaert. 

This is a translation of the title of a work in Dutch, 
published in 1627, and afterward translated into French. 
A few years ago some ignoramus saw a copy of the work, 
and from a fancied resemblance in some of the cuts, took 
it to be the original of the Pilgrim's Progress ; and through 
the newspapers straightway enlightened the world with 
the discovery that Bunyan was not the author but merely 
the translator of his Pilgrim; and this in face of the facts 
that the figures represented in the cuts of the Dutch book 
were all females, and that Bunyan did not understand a 
word of any language than his own. Dr. Southey gives 
an abstract of this work, (which was never translated into 
English,) showing that it has no resemblance to Bunyan's. 

The Pilgrim's Passe to the New Jerusalem : 
or the serious Christian his enquiries after hea- 
ven. 12mo. Lond. 1659. 

A collection of seven meditations on different pas- 



336 APPENDIX. 

sages of Scripture; the first of which is called "Abra- 
ham's profession and the pilgrim's condition : or the enqui- 
ring sojourner directed : a meditation on Gen. xxiii, 4." 

The Pilgrim's Guide from his Cradle to his 
Death-bed, with his glorious Passage from 
thence to the New Jerusalem, represented to 
the Life in a delightful new Allegory, wherein 
the Christian Traveller is more fully and plainly 
directed, than yet ever he hath been by any, in 
the right and nearest Way to the celestial Para- 
dise. By John Dunton, Rector of Aston- Clinton. 

This work appeared a few years before the Pilgrim's 
Progress. It was published by the author's son, the ec- 
centric John Dunton, a well-known bookseller of that 
day. It was for a time very popular, and went through 
several impressions in a few months. In one of his cat- 
alogues, (1685,) Dunton advertises the tenth edition of 
Bunyan's Pilgrim, (the First Part,) price one shilling. 

Bishop Patrick's once popular work, " The 
Parable of the Pilgrim," was written about 
the same time as Bunyan's, and appeared in 
1672. Neither author therefore could have 
borrowed anything from the other, as both books 
were written before either was published. In- 
dependently of this, the two works are exceed- 
ingly diverse both in matter and spirit. 



THE END. 



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